Quote: A Journey of Sex and Love in Four Parts
by Ngoc Chau
Summary: "At night I dream mostly of you touching me, of me wanting you, Mayuri-sama." she told him. His expression changed to the face of a man shocked, the mouth agape. She was worried she had said something that she should not have said. Mayuri x Nemu, Multific
1. Desire

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**So this fic is divided up into four parts. Um, so this is about how Mayuri and Nemu's relationship first became sexual and how they became lovers. **

**I don't know why this fanfic is called what it is. I was just trying to be clever. Oh, and the quote below is by Woody Allen**

**Mayuri and Nemu didn't just become lovers so easily. It involved a great deal of misery, misunderstandings, and supressed feelings.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>PART ONE - SEX RELIEVES TENSION, LOVE ONLY CAUSES IT.<strong>_

* * *

><p>This was Nemu's dream.<p>

_First she was approached by Ikkaku as he was practicing his swordsmanship skills. She had only asked him if he needed any assistance for she noticed that he had been observing her for some time. His gaze was most peculiar that she could not exactly name the fashion in which he was looking at her with. Suspicious and hesitant, she saw no reason to be truly afraid for although their divisions always quarrelled, he was still quite the gentleman to her.  
>He was gentle towards her, his hand extended. She felt him grip her sleeve and she could recount the seconds it took as his face came close to her, their breaths mingling together. And then she felt his mouth kiss hers, felt him accept her into his arms and hold her. The clatter of his zanpakuto falling to the ground echoed most crudely.<br>His mouth moved over hers so sweetly and she had to close her eyes, overwhelmed by how soft an Eleventh division officer could be. This man was one of the strongest and he could easily break her, yet he was not. They were suddenly without clothes and she saw that his body was all scarred, mementos from battle. Her heart leapt to her throat as his lips puckered and skipped down her neck, to her cleavage, her breasts…  
>She could not see what he was doing, so overcome by intensity and feelings that she reared her head back and felt her eyes to be rolling back into her skull. She felt all those nice feelings dance over her skin, her toes curling, his hands holding her as though she was some great treasure. She murmured in deliria, and felt his tongue dragging from the mounds of her thighs upwards to her.<br>She concentrated hard to look at him when he returned to her level. _

_But it was not him that looked deeply at her. She recognized the face instantly to be Akon. He carried the same serious expression on his face, but his eyes appeared brighter. She had always known that he harboured other than friendliness for her. It was by the way that he always tended to her whenever Mayuri was not there or how he would always find some opportunity or exploit some chance to touch her bare skin. Thus she always stayed as distance from him as she could. Why would she be with him now?  
>His mouth on her neck distracted her and she tried desperately to reject him but found that she could not muster up the strength or will to do so. They were not outside anymore. They were on a bed somewhere. She did not want to see him and so tried to twist away from him, turn her back on him. She half expected him to leave and for Ikkaku to come back, but it was not so. She felt his hands trace her sides, the fingers rough and the nails scratching into her. His strong legs were on both sides of her and she felt his stomach press onto her back. Heat was shared between the two of them that she leaned back, wanting more.<br>His kissed the blades of her shoulders, and mumbled sweet incomprehensible things into her back. She yelped when his hand squeezed her rear. She turned around to protest when, as she did so, he grabbed onto her hand and flipped her onto her back. His long time crept out of his mouth and lapped at her breasts like they were sweet fruits with juices running down instead of sweat-soaked endowments. His mouth played with her nipples, feeling them grow sturdier by the second and by every flick of his tongue.  
>She could not stop herself from wrapping her arms around him as he pressed his body against hers, looked down on her from his view. She could not see what was happening down below but she could feel it acutely, him moving inside of her. She tossed her head about, screaming and moaning. <em>

_When she again tried to regain control of herself, she saw that it was not Akon anymore who was with her. Thrice now the person had changed and now it had taken on the form of Mayuri. But it was not how everyone saw him. Instead he was how she always saw him in his rare moments when he was alone and was sure that no one else save her was watching him. Her hand gripped onto his scarred flesh, and she buried herself into his chest. She felt desire shoot through her when he said her name. She repeated it back to him. It was him that was entering her, that was making her sweat and caterwaul. This was a man that she had spent more of her life with than anyone else, a man that had raised her since she could remember and guarded her carefully. Her want of him only increased when she steadied her eyes on his form through tears and saw what his mouth could do to her chest.  
>She whimpered, obviously raw from the gesture and unable to cope with what was happening to her body and herself below but claw onto anything in her way, like someone drowning whose only instinct was to grab anything to keep afloat. His hands handled her flesh like one experienced, she was particularly sensitive in any place he touched and she only wondered if he knew where such spots were or if he was the one causing it. He enveloped her, consumed all her senses until he was all that she was conscious of and no one else. It was not so different, he already monopolized all of her attentions awake. But here he was returning her own thoughts to her, instead of hoarding it all to himself.<br>She felt herself more eager to please him as he pleased her. They tumbled together, both of them utterly wrapped up in each other. She knew him better than anyone else, but not even she could've suspected that he would be so lover-like. She supposed that she must be going insane because she had never thought that she would receive such gratification from her creator, she thought she would only know knowledge and pain: that the two went hand in hand with each other. Never did she ever imagine that she would feel this from him. She was atop of him, looking down at him with a new perspective that she dared not to dream or even think about. His flushed face, dark and getting redder, was enough to encourage her to continue her rocking her hips against his. _

_Then it was not only him. As she moved atop him, riding him like he was some stallion to tame and she a wild girl, she felt another set of hands cup her aching hanging breasts while Mayuri's still gripped her hips and guided her how and where to move. Briefly, she turned to look over her shoulder and saw Ikkaku sucking upon her back, his lips beautifully shaped as it pressed onto the small hill of her shoulder. Another set of hands touched and a tongue, she sought its source and saw Akon's head at her chest, he was leaning against Mayuri's chest. Mayuri continued his invasion of her in her loins. Her arms wrapped around who was closest, who was farthest._

And suddenly she woke up in perspiration, her long hair clinging to her face and hands. She rose, her legs crossed and twisted together even tighter. She was feeling an effect; a pain between her legs that practically cried that it needed something there. She knew what but was not sure. Nemu laid her head back down on her pillow and tried to will herself to sleep but found that se could not. Her mind was plagued with visions and thoughts prior to waking, the pleasures and sensations she had experienced in the sleeping world was still strong. Absent-mindedly, her hand traveled to the triangle of her legs and she pressed her fingers there.

There was hardly a satisfied feeling, but it still wanted more. She pressed firmer yet did not feel satiated, in fact she felt as though she was prolonging the pain between her legs. Tempted to try and recreate the movement of the men and what had come inside her, she did not play on the temptations for fear and the bash of touching herself down there. She was condemned another sleepless night, the second time this week.

Though truthfully, the dreams of stimuli had begun no more than five months ago.

* * *

><p>Despite Nanao being the vice-president, the duty of escorting the President of the Shinigami Women Association always fell upon Nemu for many reasons: that Yachiru liked her a lot because she was always willing to follow orders from her superiors, that Nemu was perhaps the only one in tip-top shape enough to keep up with the sugar-energized shinigami girl, and that both divisions of the two lieutenants were adjacent to each other. There were other reasons and other motives but Nemu did not like to dwell upon what others thought about her captain. As long as he still had the respect he deserved from his position as captain, then Nemu knew that she did not really have to ask for more for him(except maybe more willing volunteers for their work). Upon walking up to the gates of the Eleventh barracks with Yachiru, she was confronted with Ikkaku and Yumichika.<p>

She saw that Ikkaku had his zanpakuto slung over his shoulder and she could see the beads of sweat trickle down the side of his face, his scalp was shiny.  
>Yumichika, neat as always, bowed to her and greeted politely, "Ah! Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho. How nice to see you again. And thank you for bringing Yachiru here."<p>

She bowed her head slightly, responded, "It was to no inconvenience of me."

Yachiru went in ahead, calling out her captain's name and laughing.

Yumichika smiled to her, and the two of them chatted about nothing. Though it was more like Yumichika was doing all the talking and she could only reply, "yes" and "no." Still, Nemu appreciated talking about something besides gossip, club events, and work. It was quite refreshing for her to have small talk with someone else.  
>Then Yumichika elbowed Ikkaku, "Ikkaku, aren't you going to say something to Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho. You've just been standing there for the past ten minutes without saying a single word."<p>

She remarked to herself that Ikkaku would not look at her and that he kept his eyes glued to the ground.

He stuttered as he spoke, "You've been doing all the talking."

With that, Yumichika turned on his heel with a huff. Then it was just the two of them. Nemu felt her face flush as she recalled past dreams that involved him and his shihakusho off. She felt a wetness between her legs and so desired that he would take charge of this opportunity alone to kiss her as he often did in her dreams. Why was he so confident in reveries but so distant towards her in real life. She thought it quite unfair. She looked up slightly to notice that he was blushing as well.

"I suppose that I should be going now, Madarame-san." she told him.

He nodded, "Yeah. Yeah. I guess I'll see you around sometimes, Kurotsuchi-fukutaicho."

As she bowed, he did too, and for a few moments, they could feel each others' breaths over their faces. She felt shivers in her stomach, in her gut, traveling down her feet. She could simply lean forward and press her mouth to him to kiss him. But he withdrew away with an even redder head and asked if she would be coming back next week to pick up Yachiru for their club meetings.

She discreetly looked away, hoping to shield away her blushing face. "Yes," she answered, "I will be here again next week."

She headed back to her division.

It was a luxury for her to go to club meetings when her captain wanted her to work instead. But because of Unohana's prompting that letting her interact with other people than scientists would be good for her development and growth as a young lady. Mayuri was of course reluctant but since the Shinigami Women Association was in charge of funding distribution, it would suffice it to say that he had hardly any choice in the matter.  
>But Nemu would always try to make up his loss by working harder when the time came closer to her club meetings and to make him his favourite dinner on meeting days. The scientists and shinigami all in the labs greeted her when she entered, asking her how her club meeting went and if she needed them to get anything for her. She responded in kind and fell right into schedule with her work, slipping easily into the flow as though she had been there the whole time.<p>

She found momentary peace in work, letting it cloud over distasteful thoughts in her head, yet small shards of the dreams still came clear to her and sometimes she was left thinking beyond the dreams, imagining newer and more scenarios that would leave her and another unclothed in each others' arms.

"Fukutaicho. Are you alright?"

She turned her head to the source of the voice and saw Akon. She willed herself to face him, to not turn away. Besides Mayuri, he was talented at noticing the most minute details about her. She replied with an even voice, "Yes, Akon-san. I'm alright." She moved away from him, trying to get her heart to settle. He followed after her through the bustling of the labs, though the two were swift to dodge anybody passing by.

"You seem out of it. Are you sleeping well enough?" His concern for her was quite endearing, and yet it unsettled her for she knew that she could never show him the same that he offered her. It did not seem right.

She answered that she was sleeping well.

There was an interesting expression on his face when she answered him. "Fine. Just take care of yourself." he informed her.

She nodded and thanked him for the concern that he was showing her.

He told her that it was because she was the Chief's daughter that he was being nice, he owed a lot to him.

Nemu did not want to continue working but she felt it her obligation since she was almost foreseeing disturbing Mayuri with her problems. Today would be the day she would tell him, today would be the day she would ask what was wrong with her. So she worked the rest of the day, constantly having to remind herself to concentrate and not let her mind wander. But it was quite difficult. Akon and Ikkaku had left her thoughts for in their presence, she had felt the nightly musings to be nothing that need be taken too seriously. But there was Mayuri. It was both in dreaming and in waking that he remained constant to her. And she always felt on the verge of fainting when she saw him.

She decided to confront him about herself when she was to report to him for the hour.

And there he was at his computer, typing away at reports. She felt his irritation, he did not want to be disturbed.

Nervously, she approached him. "Mayuri-sama." she called out.

"What?" he replied harshly.

She almost winced. "I have something that I would like to ask you, Mayuri-sama."

The clacking of the keys did not stop but continued at a faster speed in fact. She came closer, her heart pounding in her ears and afraid. He knew her well. "Nemu! Hurry up and spit it out! I'm busy!" he yelled, the sounds of the keys appeared being pounded upon appeared louder and she mistook it for her imagination.

The words rushed out of her mouth, "I believe that something is wrong with me!"

He stopped immediately and the silence almost sounded deafening. He turned around in his chair to face her and she gripped her palms to keep from exclaiming at the death glare he was giving her. He was busy! She could've sensed it as soon as she stepped into the room. This was no deadline for one of his experiments but for paperwork that was to be handed in at the end of the month. He simply detested shinigami paperwork.

"What" he spat, "could possibly be wrong with you?" His gaze was icy and if looks could kill, she was sure that she would already be dead ten times.

Her eyes were glued to her shoes. She was suddenly frightful that she should not be telling him these things. That she should've bore it the best she could because she feared that her answers would lead to her destruction as a failed being. Though she had achieved shikai, she knew that she should not be so cocky to think that he would not get rid of her.

Her silence infuriated him. "Answer me, you dullard!"

She answered quickly, "Strange things have been happening to my body that I cannot control well and I have been dreaming strange things." Despite how emotionless she could make herself sound, she was utterly embarrassed to be telling him things such as that. He narrowed his eyes at her and she continued, "It hurts between my legs down there, the walls close in together hard and I feel a tightness there. In certain company of men, my heart beats faster and I feel it a greater task to breath around them. At night I dream of you touching me, of me wanting you." That tell-tale ache was making its appearance even as she was speaking to him. "I feel weak around you. I want to kiss you. I want you."

His expression changed to wide eyes and the mouth agape, the face of a man shocked. And she sensed that he was feeling just that now.

She was worried she had said something that she should not have said.

* * *

><p><strong>I don't know why, but I just feel out of it: I find myself not enjoying fanfiction anymore when I write lemons or smut... <strong>

**But oh my! Mayuri is shocked! What will happen next?**

**Stay tuned!**

**But seriously... what did you think? Any complaints? Anything you would like me to fix?**


	2. Control

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**So this might sound familiar. It should because I ripped it off of my own fanfic. I don't think it would count as plaguerism, ne?**

**Please read and tell me what you think!**

* * *

><p>Nemu stood before Mayuri, unsure if she had just done the right thing. Did she really have to tell him that he was the center of her dreams? That it was he who she wanted waking and dreaming? She supposed that she had overstepped a boundary with that. She felt very displeased with and embarrassed of herself. In turn, she felt his displeasure and humiliation. Did he not want her to feel that way? No. No, he wouldn't. A creation like her shouldn't be wanting, a creation like her should simply be content with her lot in life. To want was a human feeling and she was not totally human.<br>And certainly… a father would not want his daughter that way, nor want her to want him that way. In fact, the whole thing would be damaging to his reputation. She was very regretful of what she had done. Perhaps she should've asked the women what could be the matter with her. But the fear that what her body was going through represented malfunction or something fatal, prompted her to ask him who would know every nook and cranny of her.

He sat at his chair still, looking at her. The space hung between them uncomfortably. She did not know whether it should count as misfortune or a stroke of luck, but their privacy was broken as a messenger came with a note that the Sixth Division Lieutenant had arrived to see Mayuri. She knew him to be eager for he jumped up at the chance to leave the room, hardly arguing though complaining about how busy he was. She waited, unmoving and unsure whether she should follow behind him. Perhaps she should take advantage of the situation to not remind him of it and hope that he would overlook it for far more important things.  
>But she heard him call her name and so decided that he wanted her to follow after. She complied willingly, albeit half-heartedly.<p>

They went into his receiving room, one of his offices that was custom-built to entertain company and keep all remnants of the lab out of sight, though there were some hangings in the back that pointed out that this was the office of a scientist. Nemu could scarcely keep her mind on what they were discussing. Desperate, she tried to remember everything that the Captain and the Lieutenant were discussing: the repairs and modifications of his zanpakuto. Renji was interested in some of the cheaper modifications that Mayuri's catalogue had offered for his type of zanpakuto.

Despite writing everything down to make sure she was keeping up with the discussion, she kept her eyes on Mayuri. She wanted to see him without his paints, his mask, without anything… she wanted to see him as is. Her eyes followed the noble bridge of his nose, the stiff lips, to the sharp chin…. She wanted to kiss the apple of his throat. Her eyes moved lower to where his scarf was tucked into his shihakusho and she felt her mind to grow dizzy and her vision to cross. Why was it now of all times she should be feeling this way? The first few decades were no problems at all, but now… Why now did it start? Was there something to cure her of it? She was virtually sure that she should not be feeling this during this of all times. Worse was that it was constantly on her mind, constantly wanting to copulate with every male she met.

The discussion with Renji passed by quickly and he got up to leave, Mayuri was at his desk writing out his bill. Nemu saw the slight grimace from Renji as he looked at it, but still capitulated to the price; it was not so bad, he said fatigued. Mayuri remained sitting at his desk, leaning back against his chair while he crossed his arms against his chest. Nemu was at the door, closing it shut.

She stayed facing the door, afraid to look at him now. Nemu wondered if what she had told him was still on his mind.

"It is." he said out of the stillness.

She had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming. She slowly turned back on her heel to face him. "Mayuri-sama." she addressed him.

"How long have you been feeling like this, Nemu?" he asked, his voice sounding tired, and annoyed, and irritated.

She told him that she had been having the dreams for six months and longer she had begun feeling this way. She was worried that something was wrong with her for she did not think that she should be even be capable of being aroused simply by presence. He looked away from her, at some distant wall or what not. She actually rather-ed that he look at anything else but her.

He sighed a heavy sigh, "I didn't think I would have to teach you something like this; if anything I hoped that you would be at least sufficient enough to research this yourself and deal with it without me. Nemu. You are proving to be more trouble than I thought."

"My deepest apologies, Mayuri-sama." she automatically said. It was habit for her to apologize for everything. That was the habit that had been beaten and drilled into her.

"What you're feeling right now is called 'desire', it's a carnal instinct that you want to copulate. You at least know what that means, do you?"

"Yes, Mayuri-sama." she replied.

"Well, it's normal for you I suppose. Everyone feels this way at one point or another." he explained and she briefly wondered if he ever felt desire too. "There's nothing wrong with you, your hormones are just acting up right now and I suppose that's it's coming out as a floodgate for you. Passionate people, we've always been." She was not sure if he was joking or being serious with the last phrase he said. His hand went to his face and for a second, he seemed to be in heavy thought. "Nemu, I want you to go home in a few more hours - finish up as much work as you can. I want you to wash up."

She nodded, "Yes, Mayuri-sama."

As she left his office to go back to work, he called out, "What's for dinner tonight?"

She looked back, "We're having fried pike tonight, Mayuri-sama."

With that, he allowed her to go and she headed to the labs again. She thought, never voiced, it strange that he would want her to wash, she appeared clean. But who was she to question her Captain. She finished up her work as quick as she could manage, trying to be efficient as possible. Would he do to her what she had dreamed of? She was at once excited and scared. There were a few comments as she checked out, why was she already going home at first bell? Did she not always stay behind with the captain? She could only respond that she had to get supper started tonight.

Once at home, she bathed as quickly as she could, not taking the chance to indulge in a hot bath but lukewarm to prompt her to finish as quickly as possible. Once downstairs in her hiyoku, she promptly began cooking his dinner of fish, rice, and soup. Nemu had hoped that Mayuri-sama would come soon, but he did not show up until several more hours later. She heard the distinct sound of the latch of the door turning and ran to the front corridor. She greeted him at the door, bowing low and offered to take his captain's haori. He took it off and threw it into her arms. She hung it up in the closet and followed him upstairs.

Dinner was already ready for him, did he want to eat now, she asked as she ran up the stairs behind him.

He replied tersely that he wanted to have a bath first. Dinner would come much later.

She did not ask too much into it but followed him into the bathroom as he began stripping his clothes off. The hat came off first to reveal a shock of blue hair, then the shinigami uniform that uncovered a thin frame of a body. He was thin, narrow. Compared to most of the other men, they could possibly push him over like a reed in the wind. He had always looked fiercer in his Captain's uniform, but to see him out of it made him all the more vulnerable. White paint was decorated everywhere on him.

She was about to help him bathe the white paint off of his body when he pushed her away, telling her that he could handle it himself for that day. Then just as she was about to take her seat at the chair in front of the shower, he told her to go out. He didn't need her watching him while he bathed.

She got out of the bathroom immediately and thought that her confession had made it awkward between the two of them. She leaned against the wall next to the door, recalling that he had forgotten to take in a towel with him when he went to bathe and he would surely require her to get it for him. She grabbed a white cotton towel from the linen closet down the hall and returned to her spot, waiting for him. She thought about how it had noticeably changed between them in mere hours. Before she had always bathed with him or helped to wash him and he had had no qualms about it at all. In fact, he had thanked her for it and said that a good daughter always helped to scrub her father's back. He would talk to her from a great deal of things: from what was to be done with work the following day or month to little musings on his mind. Of the few joys in life, she enjoyed accompanying him to baths for he was usually his most temperamental during then.

An instinct told her that he was finished and she promptly went in, her eyes glued to the ground and a towel extended for him. She heard the waters dripping from him and she could feel the hot mist of his shower waft from his skin. She handed him the towel and went off to get him his hiyoku now that work was over. As she handed it to him, her eyes swept over his shoulders and the many scars that adorned his body.

She must've been staring too long for he caught her gaze and asked her harshly "What is that expression on your face?"

"I do not know, Mayuri-sama. My deepest apologies." she diverted her eyes to anywhere else but him, not wanting to bother him any more than she already was.

As she levelled down to her knees to pick up the clothes that he had cast off, she observed him as he tied the obi sash around his waist, his voice was strangely quieter than usual, "Nemu."

"Yes, Mayuri-sama." She stood back up and placed the bundle of clothes into the laundry hamper far off. Looking at him, she thought he looked more appealing without the paint over his face; why, she wondered, would he cover himself so completely?

"I am only going to teach you this once today. So, you had better remember it. Do not waste my time and don't be stupid about it!" he warned her as he strode past her into the hall.

She followed behind him.

"Nemu!" he called out from his bedroom a few doors down. She entered to see him closing the blinds and setting a timer from the drawer of his nightstand next to his bed; the timer was set for ten minutes. "I want to finish this as quick as possible. I'm hungry and tired; but for your sake, I'm only doing this to educate you." He pointed to the bed, "Take off your clothes and lie down."

Not even questioning him, Nemu slipped the hiyoku off of her shoulders, it crumpled at her feet, and laid atop the covers of his bed. He remained clothed. The frame creaked as he joined her atop the bed. Mayuri watched her like she was some bug under a microscope, his hand traced from her collarbone down the slope of her breath to the plane of her pale stomach. It sent shivers throughout her nerves.

"Nemu, tell me what you feel."

She almost stuttered but stopped herself. "Nervous, Mayuri-sama. I cannot imagine what you are going to do next." Not everything, she learned a long time ago, was what it seemed with this man.

"Do you enjoy it?" he asked. His voice was not one like a gentle lover's or angry like one impassioned. Instead, it was no different than some doctor asking about stomach troubles or if it hurts the back of one's knees to bend forward to a certain extent. Mayuri's voice was quiet similar to that fashion, only curious and wanting to know without any emotional involvement. She could not sense anything beyond curiosity and impatience from him.

"I am not sure, Mayuri-sama."

He leaned forward over her, placing kisses upon the tip of her breast while one of his hands kneaded the other. She let out a small gasp and arched upwards. He pushed her back down, telling her to be quiet. But his hands were absolutely gentle, kind, on her. She steadied her breath and breathed slowly through her nose. Then she felt his mouth touch hers. His body shifted completely over hers and every part of her was covered by him. They kissed and yet they did not. His hand moved agonizingly slow from her hip to her thigh while the other continued touching her chest. He began nibbling upon her bottom lip, moving to her chin, then her jaw and at one magical spot on her neck, she suddenly began to shake. "Mayuri-sama." she cried softly. "How are you doing this?" Her dreams were nothing in comparison to what he was making her feel now.

"Tell me what you feel." he ordered.

"Like my heart is about to burst, like I cannot breathe anymore." His hips pushed down on her bare ones and a moan escaped her lips. The pain returned to her down there: where it felt like it was all at once opening and closing, nonetheless it felt like something should be placed there to fill it. Her breath hitched as his fingertips suddenly touched her inside. Nemu wanted to close her legs tight around his hand and yet it felt all so wrong. The same embarrassment from earlier that morning came back. She wanted to get up and run away, but he had not said anything about it, so she forced herself to stay still and frozen.

Somehow he knew that something was wrong with her, because he firmly slapped her shoulder. "Nemu! Don't tense up like that! Relax your body!"

She immediately relaxed herself and breathed long and low as his fingers played in the curls down below and sank even deeper. She gasped to the foreign sensation.

He pulled his fingers away and snapped, "Be quiet, you idiot! I'm trying to help you by showing you this! Do you even know what's going to happen next?"

"No, Mayuri-sama." she answered.

He scoffed as he leaned back on the bed, his hand supporting his body, "Of course, you wouldn't know. Most people would instinctively understand what's occurring; you, on the other hand, don't. You're ignorant and useless without me. Think about it, I am the only one you can depend on to teach you anything substantial; anybody else would lead you astray and fill that tiny brain of yours with falsity." He tilted his head and his smile grew to something that could only be described as sadistic and cunning.

His fingers touched her and she had to grip tightly to the bed covers to keep from thrashing. She could not control herself: the sounds and moans were pouring from her mouth as her Captain continued his ministrations. It felt like every fluid within her body was rushing to the bottom of her stomach. Her dreams had not prepared her for how it would feel. There were no words to describe it but there was only a label as she later found out from reserach on her own time.

She achieved her first orgasm.

It was an experience that surely would not be easily forgotten as easily as a dream but it did not leave her wanting, instead she felt as happy as the cat that ate the canary. It can be generally said that it frightened her to know that her Captain was capable of evoking such feelings inside her, to cause her body to convulse and ache. Would the dreams go away now? Now that she had something to compare them with, to stomp them out of her mind? Would the feelings stop since she would finally be finished?

She wailed out, his fingers twisted and pinched. As her body shook and she began to breathe steadily, the timer next to the bed suddenly rang aloud. His hand slid away from her and brushed over her skin like a ghost.

"Nemu. We're done now. Get up, I want to have my dinner." He rolled off of her to his feet.

She sat up immediately and as she put her clothes back on with his staring eyes on her, she could not help but think back continuously of what was taught to her by her Captain.

Mayuri suddenly grabbed her and brought her close to him. "Understand this, Nemu! No man is ever allowed to touch you like this, not unless I allow it. No other man is allowed to touch you like I did. If their dirty hands ever so much as come close to you here." his fingers dove between her legs and went in deep. She gasped out loud at the pain and sensation, then he slowly eased out and she felt something sensational as an afterthought, "I want you to rip their arms apart."

"Yes, Mayuri-sama."

He left the room first and she followed behind on shaky legs and a fluttering stomach.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! So Nemu is cured! <strong>

**Or is she?**

**So... um, what did you think?**


	3. Weakness

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**Okay, so this is what happened to me. I had always had the habit to turn off the computer whenever my mum came home, but recently because of the sudden burst of inspiration for MayurixNemu fics, I exceeded my time to continue writing past midnight. My mum did not like the habit, especially since school is starting soon and I've just gotten a job, so she took away my laptop and told me that I would only be getting it back IF I was good. **

**So updates will be slower. I will try and finish this fic before the start of school. **

**But I will go on hiatus from after Labour Day(so when school starts) to about Christmas Break. So nothing new for about four months. **

**Um... so yeah... **

**Now this chapter probably takes place about five to six months after the last chapter. Please enjoy if you can!**

* * *

><p>Nemu was not at all alright.<p>

She crouched low, her palms held firmly up and touching the white of the wall in front of her. She was shaking, trembles going everywhere throughout her body. The dreams had not stopped, in fact they had grown more intense.  
>Instead of Akon or Ikkaku that had made themselves friendly with her in dream, it was only Mayuri that she thought about as night and exhaustion came upon her. She bit her lips, trying to suppress a groan and to cope with the ache between her legs. After that initial day, she had found herself not thinking carnal imaginings; but then not so long afterwards they returned in greater fold. She thought to use the memory of her close encounter with her captain to compensate with the lack of current sexual activity, but it did not really help as she would've thought.<p>

She did not want to bother him again, thinking that she should just deal with it herself and she had done that, but to no avail. She found the heat of her always burning hotter whenever she was with him and so at first had tried to avoid him without really avoiding him. Did he notice how much she desired him? When she felt the pangs of desire, as she knew it, to come upon her in his presence, she would ask to be excused and, secretly from everyone's eyes, slap such thoughts out of herself. Mayuri had questioned the reason for her swollen cheeks and tearful eyes and she could only reply that she had fell. She knew he was dubious of her answer.

She had tried to keep her mind off of unholy thoughts of the flesh and thought herself cured in a sense. But it was not so. She had only been in the labs working when she saw her captain.  
>He had been speaking with a group of researchers about what he needed them to do with the new data and whatnot when she had looked up from her work to see him. Something had made her delusional; for while she was quite aware that he did not appear any different than he usually did on a typical day, Nemu had felt utterly entranced to simply see him at work. Her eyes had followed the outline of him. From the eyes that were so intense and often looked so fatigue when one looked carefully and long enough at him. To the elegant curve of his cheek, deteriorated from hours of late nights and screaming at incompetent people, and the chin-piece of his mask. Those lips had kissed her, she had thought, had pressed against her body and had made her feel like Woman. Everything about him no longer seemed to make him far and distant, a rattlesnake giving fair warning; but then it had all seemed to be a trick in which to allure her. Even watching his hands' gestures made her heart quiver for him, how willowy they were as they moved and how graceful they bent to his every word and thought.<p>

Speaking of the devil, she began to feel those hands upon her, feel them handle her like she was a peach ready for the picking. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the tip of his profile, hiding in her hair and she felt the breath of him stir her ears. "Dear me." she had heard him say, "Has daddy's girl been good or naughty?"  
>The hands had moved higher to cup her breasts, squeezing and she felt him smile through the skin on the back of her neck. His fingers tweaked her nipples and she had responded by offering her rear to him, some magnetic force moving through her to do so. "Yes. Just like this. Show me what you want." he had whispered into her ears, his breath tickling her. She had felt him push back against her.<p>

Hardly able to control herself, she cried out and her voice had resonated through the mingling voices of the lab and its electronic beeping.

Her captain was yards away from her, far away from her. Everyone was looking with questioning stares.  
>What had just happened was all in her head, had never even taken place. She could not have thought of anything more humiliating than to be caught up in her own fantasies, unintentional though it was.<p>

"Fukutaicho," someone had asked, "is something the matter?"

Swiftly Mayuri strode over to her, danger coming off in waves from him. She had bitten down on her teeth and kept her tongue out of the way, almost anticipating what he was going to do next to her. He slapped her across her cheeks though luckily not so hard that she was knocked to the ground. As she tended to the swelling soreness, leaning against the counter of one of the tables there; he ordered her to leave and compose herself before coming back, she had five minutes to do so.

And so there she was in the lavatory, crouched against the wall. Even now, she could feel the phantom hands on her person, touching her so lovingly and making her feel special and wanted and strong. She could still hear his voice whispering all sorts of dirty things and sweet things. It was already unimaginable that she should be haunted by impotent dreams, but then to live them in waking hour! She touched the throbbing spot between her legs below, feeling close that the longing was satisfied but not really. Her arms wrapped tight around herself and she imagined them to be his arms. She stood up and crossed her legs over each other and tried to conjure back up that one moment between them that evening. The desire died away but she was far from satisfied. For extra safety measures, she slapped herself until her cheeks grew rosy and that it hurt even to trace a finger over the flushing hills. Then she left the lavatory to get back to work.

On the way back to the labs, she encountered Akon. He was smoking, as he always did. "Are you okay, fukutaicho?" he asked her. Then he indicated to her cheeks.

She patted them gingerly and told him that she was alright. That she had simply fell.

His look was skeptical.

They spoke some together on the way to the labs that she had come from and in his company, Nemu was overcome with a desire to kiss him. To slam him against the wall and press her body against him and kiss him until neither one of them could breathe. They walked closer, his shoulder touched hers.  
>He voiced his concern for her again, telling her that if there was anything she needed, she could always talk to him.<p>

She thanked him for his hospitality to her and he reminded her that it was because he owed the Chief that he was only being so nice. People like them were never nice without a reason.

As they were about to enter into the labs, Mayuri was on his way out.

She felt his eyes narrow on her. She realized that both her and Akon were standing unusually close together, their hips and shoulders almost touching each others'. She looked at her feet as she took a step to distance herself from Akon. He did the same thing and looked away. She tried to will away the blush that she knew was surely making itself known on her face.

Akon excused himself, greeting Mayuri and bidding him goodbye before leaving to go through another door nearby.

Facing him alone for just a few seconds, she heard him hiss, "You're not here to fraternize, you stupid whore."

She apologized and asked where he was going.

He replied that he did not have to justify her with an answer.

With some distress to herself, Nemu returned diligently to her work, hoping that everyone would forget what a spectacle she had made of herself.

* * *

><p>Nemu felt that her choices were very limited.<p>

She could of course request that Mayuri educate her once more(at this thought, she blushed herself mad and warmth filled her). She could attempt to achieve an orgasm herself using her fingers; after all, didn't Mayuri turn her to a quivering mass of goo with just his fingers. Or possibly she could find someone else to service her in such a manner. But Mayuri had warned her that she was not to let any other touch her and she knew it better than to look for loopholes in his words. Still, she could question others about what to do when sexually frustrated and then tend to it herself.

Passing down the hallways with new paperwork in her arms, she came upon the sight of two shinigami in her division.

They stood some distance from each other, yet they were still able to reach with ease. Both were typically Japanese: a boy with short dark hair and a girl with long black hair. They were laughing together and she saw the smiels on their faces to be genuine. She did not miss how their hands, almost secretive, crept against the wall to lock together and stay hidden in the shadows and under their sleeves. Though Nemu had kept a steady pace, she had seen more than enough to be envious of the entire situation. She wished to be in the girl's spot.

Throughout the rest of the day, Nemu isolated herself in her office: working on both her paperwork and her captain's. It was only by that that he would allow her to stray away from his side. She supposed that it was a good trade-off for being without any interaction for the rest of the day, she felt crude lustful thoughts to hardly matter to her.  
>It was not custom for her to devote so much of her time and energy to her captain and yet attempt to block the reminder of his presence from her mind. She pretended that she was in exile, beyond that of Rukongai, and that there was no one around her for miles. Though occasionally, she would exhaust her concentration and be incited to doodle on spare scraps of paper nearby. Motion printed on white.<p>

However, her plan could only work for so long, for she knew that she would be subjected to temptation once more during closing time. And temptation greeted her at least once a day when Mayuri would bathe and shower to remove his paints in order to go to bed.

Unlike the time it took for her heat to die away, it was not until two months after 'the event' that Mayuri allowed her back to their usual intimacy with each other.  
>Imagine how ecstatic she had been when she thought that she would have to wait one more day on the other side of the wall. Only then to hear him tell her to "Get in here." She had eagerly entered in the bathroom with a towel and his hiyoku draped over her forearms; he was still in the bath, residue of white slowly melting off the curve of his spine. Through dripping blue hair and over one shoulder, he had asked her most harsly, "Well? What are you waiting for?" Too happy for words, she threw herelf into the task of washing his back. Too overjoyed, all thoughts - licentious and otherwise - were clouded over by the single thought that she was close to him again and that everything would hopefully go back to normal.<p>

The time seperated had worried her endlessly.

Had he been so disgusted with the idea of incest(she had researched the situation between them as well as her own part) that he no longer wanted her near him?

She knew that she was attractive, she had been told so by others and even by Mayuri at vertain points of her existence; but perhaps even that physical comeliness was not enough. And Mayuri had standards after all, so maybe she had crossed a line with herself.

Nemu sighed as she set up the their dinner at home on the table. She looked to the clock on the wall. Just half an hour more and he would come back. He had needed to return to his office in the labs to input new data and told her to set up their meal then to wait for him. She had complied obediently and sat, with her knees together and her hands placed nicely in her lap, at their low table. Her thoughts quite flew her away, alongside the time. Again, she sighed to herself: the lids of her eyes lowering slightly.

There was a chance, she was well aware, that if she had been anybody else; his brutality and his sadism would've repelled her away. But currently, she was Kurotsuchi Nemu: Twelfth Division Lieutenant, Assistant Chief of the Shinigami Development and Research Institute, daughter of Kurotsuchi Mayuri... and nothing repelled her from him.

Mad man, bad man, cruel man; she cared not if that was what he exactly was because it did not change the fact that he was her creator and her parent. Never for the rest of her existence would she willingly leave him, into Death she would follow after him; only his will and no others' would ever assuage her loyalty. How did such extreme and pure faithfulness and worship twist into a most sinful and disgusting attraction? she wondered. Everyone knew of his ways and manner, particularly his abuse to subordinates he was displeased with, and often questioned her that despite being her father how could she continue under him?  
>She could not easily explain it to them, not even to herself; she had told them at first. But soon the concerned were not satisfied with a response like that. Because she had no other choice. Because she couldn't leave him. Because she was bound to him by instinct and will. Because she didn't want to leave him.<p>

Nemu jumped to her feet when she heard the latch turn at the door and quickly went to greet him. She helped him take off his captain haori to hang in the closet near the door and then followed behind him to the dinner table.

They sat opposite each other and ate quietly without speaking to better enjoy the meal. She imagined Yachiru or Nanao or Rangiku or even Isane before her, anyone but her captain. She cleared her mind and counted sheep as she ate.

* * *

><p>Mayuri liked to take his showers some time before he actually went to sleep because he did not like to pillow his head on wet hair.<p>

Bathing was always quick for him for he did not like the feel of air on his skin, prefering to always be covered up in one way or another. Having just taken his shower and was now un-painted, he was leisurely enjoying another of his favourite activities best performed in the privacy of their home away from prying eyes.

They sat upon the covers of his bed. He was leaning against the headboard as a pillow supported his back, while Nemu took her position at the foot of the bed. Both were dressed to be ready for sleep. Nemu had undone her long plait so that he could brush it to his heart's content, while she read the new Seireitei Communication aloud to him.  
>That month, Nanao had written a particularly good article that even Mayuri had commented favourably about it every time she paused to momentarily turn the page. She could not keep the small smile off her face. Whenever there was a tangle or a knot in her tresses, he was soft-acting to straighten in out without hurting her. He tickled her when his fingers mimicked the teeth of the comb he used exclusively to brush her hair, running through the locks that the comb had run through before.<p>

Life seemed, dare she say it? perfect in these quiet moments.

Once she finished reading the final character on the last page and closed the magazine, she heard him put away the comb in the drawer of his nightstand by the bed. The mattress creaked when he came closer to her. He grabbed handfuls of her hair like they were delicate strands of silk thread and she felt his breath dance upon the top of her scalp as he buried his face in her tresses. She was not so vain to constantly fret about her apeparance; but she took extra care to always preserve her hair and do or use whatever she could to ameliorate its apeparance, health, and length. It was no trouble at all if it meant attentions like this.

Alas, she could not enjoy it as she had in her younger, more ignorant days.

She was frightened that him, tired and affectionate, would let loose a floodgate of emotions. That she would drop her walls and everything would be ruined once more. These were no ghost fingers gracing the skin on the back of her neck. This was no figment of him acting tenderly to her. He breathed out her name, "Nemu..." in such a lover-like fashion that it made her feel demure and nervous. The memory of the morning was then conjured up.

Damn her!

Time and effort spent trying to hide and rid what she felt for him: lost in a moment of weakness.

What he did not know lingering, was now definitely known to him. He knew how and she knew it too.

What had she done?

She saw the anger flash across his face and so scrambled off of his bed; kneeling on the floor, her head bowed against the edge of the mattress, and her hands linked together and held before her as though in prayer. "Please forgive my impertinence, Mayuri-sama!" she begged him, her steady voice concealed her fear well.

He grabbed her by the dark hair he so often admired and pulled hard on it, dragging her back to his level upon the bed. She was scared witless and he was hurting her now. She saw something appear in his eyes, a flash of some sort.

She felt all sense of control leave her as, without warning then, he pulled her to him and brutally kissed her on her mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>Um... So, what did you think?<strong>


	4. Uncontrolable

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**Sorry for taking such a long time! My math marks aren't doing so well, but I guess it's true what they say that writers can't do math. Anyway, here's the chapter. Sorry, it's so damn short. I'll try and have another one up right away to make up for it. **

**ps  
>I'm starting to draw my own fanart and doujinshi(fan comics) for this fandom. I've already put one up but it's crappily coloured because it's my first one. It's called "Double Entendre" under my dA name which is Ngoc12. Check it out and hopefully give me some suggestions for a short oneshot for a fancomic or find me an artist who can colour for me. <strong>

**Here's the fanfic! Sorry if it's so crappy. I started writing this when I had that summer romance and now it's over so... yeah...**

* * *

><p>"All this time?" he questioned gently as he broke away the kiss.<p>

She nodded and tears welled up in her eyes. "I… I love you, Mayuri-sama!" she confessed and they both hugged each other.

"Nemu, I love you too." he returned to her equally. "Now let us make love and arrange a wedding for next year in winter on Christmas day of Valentines day because that's the romantic thing to do!"

Because of the power of love, he was good and sane.

Insert lemon scene right here.

And they all lived happily ever after with no more abuse.

The end.

I got you! If you actually read this right to the end I so got you! Haha ha! Anyway, here's the new chapter. I hope you enjoy it and sorry for the long wait.

* * *

><p>She grabbed onto his shoulders, fruitlessly clawing into the fabric of his robes, as his hand went to the small of her back and pressed her body closer to his. Nemu knew this to be no kiss of requited affection or even passion, albeit his mouth did wonders kissing and shaping itself against hers. This kiss was another way for him to crack open her mind, see everything that she had tried to hide from him. Nothing in the dark corners would stay hidden from him. Seeing no use in resisting, she allowed it all to spill forth and only relished that he was touching her in the way that she had always wanted him to touch her.<p>

And so months of pent up frustration at how he could remain so calm when she was so hot, every dirty and licentious thought she ever had of him since that first night he showed her how a man could make a woman feel with just his fingers, and desire all came rushing out. Their lips broke apart for a second and she took it as a chance to breathe before returning to his flavour.  
>Alas, he pushed her away, having had his fill of her mind and needing her no longer.<p>

He looked angrily at her. She cowered on the floor and bowed her head. "I deeply apologize for my inappropriateness. It is no intention of mine to trouble you, Mayuri-sama."

"And yet here you are doing just that. What do you think will happen if people were to think that we were in that sort of relationship? Surveillance on me is heavy enough as it is, now they need to watch out if I'm a sexual deviant? And do you think that I created you just to satisfy me sexually? Do you insult my genius to even insinuate that my skills would only be good enough to create myself a sex doll? I created you with the purpose of a lab assistant, to prove to the entire Soul Society that I am the best at what I do! You filthy slut!" He struck her and swiftly moved to kick her while she was down.

She apologized and accepted his punishment.

But it was only after another kick did he stop and pull her by the arm up to her feet. He glared at her and the phrase, If looks could kill, came to mind. "You are my creation and my daughter," he spat out the last word, "and I am your master. Don't think so highly of yourself just because I _educated_ you. I could very well take you apart and rebuild you without these stupid feelings. Better yet, I could scrap you altogether and create a new Nemu from scratch. Your predecessors were hardly this much frustrating to deal with."

"Yes, sir." she responded only because she could not think of any other response that would surely anger him.

He let go of her and she stumbled momentarily before regaining her composure. She stood before him on straight legs, her hands together in front of her, her gaze low and humble, and the side of her head throbbing painfully.

"Go to your room and sleep. We have work tomorrow." he ordered.

She responded with the obedient, "Yes, sir." and shuffled out of his room, out the door. It was only when she was in the hallway of their home did she make a run for it to her room. Fearful of the chance that he may come out and punish her or cut her through with his zanpakuto again. And she could not bear to face him any longer. Her shame was great and it weighed heavily upon her.

Once inside her room, she calmed down. She had gone and ruined everything. How could she be so troublesome? He had expected her to be normal, but she could not even do that. Would he actually take her apart? Would he get rid of her? What could she do now? She was frightened for her own safety of course; but she was more frightened of being taken away from her creator, even if it be by his own hand and will. She lamented her sin of wanting her creator, her father. It was not in her place to want when it was reserved for humans, for real beings; not creations and false beings like her.

Lying in bed, desire poked its unwanted head into her loins. Now of all times? Right after she had been scolded and beaten for it? She was mostly appalled at herself. She was such a disgusting creature! But the thought of how gentle he had been before, the way he had brushed his fingers through her hair…  
>She groaned, he could very much have had his way with her and he didn't. No, she should not ask him or even approach him with a request for this most shameful act. It was her own body, he only took care of maintaining it; but this licentious act should be her own responsibility.<p>

She sighed, making an effort to muster up the courage for the act. Her hand entered between the folds of her robe and slunk beneath the lining of her panties. She felt coarse curly hair that was ticklish to the touch, a triangular forest upon her. Her fingers dove and weave between the hair, stalling at the warm entrance. The lips below were slowly pushed apart. This should not be so hard, she thought to herself as the tip of one finger cautiously crawled inside her. She shuddered at the sensation of herself, how hot and sticky she was inside. She stroked the nub inside her and pressed down, there was an odd indescribable sensation that was not at all unpleasant. But it incited no passion nor heat as it had at Mayuri's touch.

Curious and frightened, she was ambivalent whether or not she should go further to service herself or forget about it altogether. In the midst of her own self doubt, she took it upon herself to use that as distraction as she inserted another finger and allowed the prior one to go in deeper. Something inside of her seemed to call, Stop! No more! Pulling her fingers out, she felt a wave of disgust and fear move over her. Not only was her own desire scaring her but her own body as well in its carnal heat. A deeper appreciation for Mayuri was met as she thought about what he had done for her, and then shame rolled in the pit of her stomach.

If she could not even do it herself, how could she have dared to ask her captain to service her. Yes, when he had done it for her she had enjoyed it and lapped it up like a cat would with milk; but what about him? He had tolerated it for her that first time, but what if her own body repelled him as it did her. Nemu was very much frustrated. She wiped her sticky fingers on the edge of the blanket and willed herself hard to a fruitless sleep.

Until she heard the sound of creaking footsteps outside her door. She did not rise from her bed nor did she stir. The screen door slid open and she could feel a presence enter her bedroom, Not even opening her eyes, she knew it to be Mayuri. His non-existent breath echoed in the room and she was unsure how she was supposed to react. Did he want her to get up? Did he only want to check up on her? Nevertheless, Nemu remained motionless in her bed, her eyes closed and her limbs at her side.

Quiet.

Still.

His voice broke the silence. "I know you're awake, Nemu."

She opened up her eyes and sat up slightly on her bed. "Mayuri-sama…" she uttered at the sight of him looming over her. Without warning, she felt his lips press against hers. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his neck and she welcomed him onto the level of her bed. The creaked with the weight of his knee as she climbed atop of the bed, atop of her. His lips moved down to her throat.

"Nemu." he moaned.

"Yes, sir…" she replied back.

"Just one more time." he informed her as he untied her obi and opened up her robe. She mewled helplessly, delirious with pleasure as he moved lower on her body.

His fingers worked magic on her.

Her mind was a total blank at his ministrations that she could hardly compose a single thought, register what was happening and store it for herself.

It was over very quickly, ending when her legs were trembling and her heart was racing a mile a minute.

He moved away from her quickly and off the bed.

She turned her head to look at him: standing and straightening out his robe for sleep. She sighed contentedly and turned onto her side towards him. She thanked him quietly, as she was tired too.

He did not look at her. "We will not ever… we won't speak about this." he said in that voice of his.

She nodded, "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."

He exited the room.

She rolled onto her back and closed up her robe, tying it quickly so that it should not be undone as she slept. He did not look at me, she thought as she began to drift to sleep. Not once did those golden eyes look at her. Perhaps, she thought, he was tired. Besides he was working below and so it makes sense, she tried to assure herself. Yet it did not stop that little voice in the back of her head from saying, Maybe he hates you.

The tears came suddenly and she buried her face in her pillow as she slept.

Tomorrow was another day after all.

* * *

><p><strong>I know this was bad... Well, part one is over and part two is coming up in the next chapter. The next chapter continues about two or three months from this chapter. Stay tuned!<strong>


	5. Fiend

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**Okay, hopefully, I made up the disappointment of last chapter with this chapter. So this takes place a few months since the last chapter and this is Part 2! Yay! We're getting somewhere!  
>I hope you guys like this chapter. Please give me your opinion on it. Too much citrus? Do I seem meretricious?<strong>

**Anyway, the quote below is by Maureen Duffy.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>PART TWO - THE PAIN OF LOVE IS THE PAIN OF BEING ALIVE, IT IS A PERPETUAL WOUND.<strong>_

* * *

><p><em>"Just one more time."<em>

.  
>.<p>

_"Again? It's only been a month!"_

.  
>.<p>

_"Fine."_

.  
>.<p>

_"Be patient! I need to finish this before we go home_

.  
>.<p>

_"No, not today. I've already written this down for next week and next week is the only time I'm not busy."_

.  
>.<p>

__"It's already 9? Very well, come here." __

.  
>.<p>

* * *

><p>"Don't tense your body like that, Nemu. I'm going to finish, so relax." he said as he gave her thigh a soft whack.<p>

She nodded her head, "Yes, Mayuri-sama."

He felt her relax beneath him. Mayuri leaned in close, kissing her mouth while his hand searched through her robe. Albeit he was just as adept with his left hand, he would have preferred to use his right hand; then again he was in no mood to tear her up with his long talon and fix her afterwards. He just wanted to get this over with and then go to bed. It was not routine for them to do it so late but work still came first.

Their mouths parted. His fingers hooked under the elastic of her panties and pulled it down to her thighs midway to have better access at her. His hand moved to the triangle of her womanhood. His fingers tugged at the hairs below.  
>He felt her nails scrape along the lines of his shoulders as she pushed the edge of his own robe off. He felt a shudder move through him as their naked chests touched; such ecstasy it was to feel the warmth of another's skin on his own cold exterior. Her hands burrowed under his clothes, touching his skin. Her hot palms connected with some part of him that sent his stomach burning. He more than tolerated the contact she initiated upon him.<p>

He moved on his side, one arm supporting him while the other busied itself with the task at hand. He felt the protest she did not say. "Then turn onto your stomach." he ordered her.

He heard her moan, "_Nnn_…" and he momentarily allowed himself a mental pat on the back for already bringing her to excitement. On her stomach, his entire form enveloped her and even he had to admit this spooning position was easier on his arm, though he did not have so clear a view to what he was doing. No matter, he had done this often enough with her to know when and where to push her buttons(albeit he examined and reconstructed her enough times that he memorized every nook and cranny of her).  
>Her hand scrambled for his free one and she gripped it tight in her own hold. His forehead rested against her shoulder blade; he sighed in deeply the scent of her braid that laid right next to his view.<p>

Dear me, he thought, I guess I should finish this up before I fall asleep on her.

A finger went in first, slowly easing inside. Another finger joined. His thumb came into the fun, tugging at the little mound inside. Warmth radiated from her onto him. She writhed on the sheets. Her rear pushed up towards his pelvis. No matter how composed she could be during the day, no matter how bravely she could bear his blows and his abuse; she was just like them all. Soft and sensitive. His fingers pumped in and out of her, encouraging her mewling.

He tried to remain indifferent to her, tried to not see her. He could still hear her, feel her as acutely as ever. She moaned his name, called out for him. Her voice was breathy, soft. "Ah! Ah! Mayuri-sama. Oh! Oh!…" She was begging to bring her to her completion, she could barely take it any more. The rhythm of her hips was uneven, she was still unsure of what to do despite him doing all of the work. The bed was creaking, sheets ruffling and crumpling together. An intake of air by her was raspy, like breathing was becoming difficult. He could feel her tightening, her knees inching closer together. It was interesting to see her body's reactions to his stimulations of her clitoris.

She cried out.

His hand stopped, but remained resting there.

He could feel it from her and he knew that she knew he knew. They both shared a shame together: hers was that she had to impose herself on him in this manner while his was of a completely different reasoning.

Nemu's eyes were closed, her head turned on its side. Her expression was peaceful, something that surely any hot-blooded man would not mind waking up to in the morning. She was breathing heavily, he could feel the rise and fall of her chest under himself. While one hand had loosened its grip on the sheets, her other was still holding tight onto his own. Her legs came close together, sandwiching his hand between the voluptuous thighs. He murmured her name, feeling almost coerced in a certain way to not disturb her. Her lids fluttered open, she told him thank you while still resting beneath him. He felt her reluctance to release his hand from there below.

He sat up and wore his robe on his shoulders again, tightening the obi.

She bid him goodnight when he reached the door. He heard the bed creak as she moved, but he would not look back at her. He could not bare to look at her, especially after this.

"Goodnight." he uttered back, feeling something caught in the back of his throat.

He left her room to go to his own. He entered the bathroom attached to his room, preparing to take a shower to wash away all of his paints that remained on his body. And the smell of her too. He felt a tightness at recalling the memory just a few minutes prior. In the shower as he scrubbed away all of the white and black off of his body, he was disturbed of himself, even by this standard.  
>It was a fact that he was dangerous, that sometimes he had to remind himself that this was no dream and that everything had consequences, small or grand. Everything had a reaction to a cause. He knew he had gone insane in their eyes, a super sanity that it was deemed truly insane yet still function properly enough.<p>

But it was _this perversion_ that went far beyond anything he ever felt.  
>Why should it disturb him and bother him so? He had done worst and was well prepared to go farther, so why did this business with Nemu irritate him to such an extent that he should still be thinking about it when he was done?<p>

As he was making sure that he was clean to go to sleep, his hands running over the entirety of his body, he was plagued with thoughts if it was her who was touching him now and there._ It_ rose as though agreeing with how marvellous it would be if it was true. His golden eyes widened at the sight of _it_ and he quickly turned the temperature of the water to cold to settle himself down. He was always used to the cold, but the sensation was absolutely chilling. He was not enjoying it at all. Mayuri thought that he would be solved, alas it was only his physical state that was taken care of for the time.  
>The memory of her calling his name, of her dark hair spread on the white sheets, the long legs that went on and on till next Tuesday… Well, he decided, if he needed to take care of this, it would be better to do it in the shower where the mess could be washed down the drain efficiently. He returned the temperature of the water back to warm and touched himself. His hand grabbed hold of the stiff length, rubbing at it. The sound of it was coupled with his own hoarse breaths.<p>

He dared himself to look upon at what he was doing, at how weak he could when he so often declared that he was above the rabble. He was no better than them! Condemned to abuse himself in the bath after servicing his daughter. How pathetic of a man was that! He indulged momentarily, wanting sleep and to stop thinking and get it over with as he did for her. He thought of her holding onto him, of what she felt like inside and how soft her skin was. He imagined that mouth of hers swallowing him, the lips wrapped around him and puckered. His hand pumped harder, the other was held out against the shower walls to support himself. He snarled loudly as he came to his completion, the organ twitching about and spitting up.  
>He observed calmly to himself as the shower's waters continued running over him that it was the same colour as his paints, hardly distinguishable from each other.<p>

Even he knew that it was not normal per se to think of his daughter as he masturbated. Had the boundaries been blurred so much that he had begun thinking of her as another woman? He was not so unattractive that he could not have found another bed partner. He could've been allowed entry into the rooms of the Fourth Captain if he was so hungry for sexual satisfaction. Yet why hadn't he? He could not even recall the last time he had known another's company in such a manner. Certainly not during or after he was in the Maggots' Nest. What was stopping him now from getting a partner? Why stay single? He wasn't getting any younger. It was not impossible for him to get a girlfriend or a wife; he was of captain status, he was financially well off, his work was influential, he was not too old compared to other shinigami, and he knew that his appearance was appealing enough.  
>However there were certain issues.<br>He had heard many speak of his temper and he knew about it but found it difficult to control. The mad scientist thing too was something that also scared off the ladies. Que sera, sera; he was who he was. Oh, and there was the fact that he was poisonous.  
>It was not that touching him could lead to a coma of a fatality, but years of working with so many chemicals and modifying himself constantly had made his body a work of both offence and defence; that nothing would escape unscathed or unharmed if he was ever invaded or attacked. Poison in his blood, a medley of contagions in his vital organs, miasma swirling in his lungs, cancers hidden throughout his flesh, venom at his tips and talon…<p>

Come to think of it, the only person who was safe to touch him, to even be close to him without the need of quarantine or an antidote was Nemu.

He sighed, unable to get to sleep. The musings plagued him.

Why did he acquiesce to her? He could've gotten another man to service her for him, why did he take it upon himself? Better yet, he could've programmed a gikon to do just that and present it to her. Did not women use toys and other materials instead of just themselves when they were lusting? He could've said no, once was surely enough. But no; he could just feel the desire rolling off of her in waves and her desire fed his desire too.

Then he was afraid. He was afraid of getting too attached to her. He did not want to depend on her too much, did not want to grow soft because he knew that the instant he went soft it would all be over.

He had crossed a line when he regarded her as his daughter. Simply because she was born of his flesh and was his own creation did not necessarily make her his daughter. He very well could've tagged and bagged her as a success when he was bored with her. Instead he had kept her, educated her, sent her to the Shinigami Academy and made her his lieutenant when she had graduated.

Professionally, she was a completed experiment: his ultimate result in gigai and gikon experimentation. Yet when she was completed, he treated her and saw her as daughter. It was a responsibility that he took upon himself with no other prompting other than his own.

Now it was changing.

He tried to assure himself that she was still pure. That what they have been doing together has not tarnished her in any way. Never would he admit this to another individual, not even to Nemu; but she was his light, his Prosperine, the one thing about him that was not totally dark and twisted.  
>Unlike him, he thought.<p>

What was it that he was doing now? What was the point?  
>Listen to yourself, he thought, there is a difference between what a father does and what a man commits.<p>

Though he felt it to be a fragile argument, easily destroyed and stomped and crushed. What was he doing now?

Before he drifted to sleep he told himself, She is only your daughter and nothing more.

But even he was dubious that he believed it.

* * *

><p><strong>So, what did you think? Any confusion? The lines above right below the quote are lines said by Mayuri at different times to show how he sort of changed to go from refusing to service Nemu to soon have said act be a habit for them. <strong>


	6. Celibate

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**I is alive! Yeah, so my summatives are over and I'm going to try and update and finish this fanfic quick so that I can release a new one. How would you feel about an IU fic where Nemu becomes pregnant or a Lolita-esque fic where 30 year old Mayuri Kurotsuchi meets his 12 year old cousin Nemu at an omiai? Maybe an AU where Nemu is a model and Mayuri is a chairman of a branch company of Seireitei Inc. ? Ah, I've started drawing fan art of Mayuri and Nemu. Please give me your opinion on them under Ngoc12 on deviant . On with the fic, sorry for the shortness.**

**So, this chapter takes place either right after the last chapter in the same night or sort of at the same time... Anyway, it's like looking at a he says - she says sort of part right now. Part three is right after this chapter!**

* * *

><p>Nemu could not sleep. She took another deep breath. It had not been a half hour since Mayuri had visited her room and she was restless.<p>

It was not excitement and longing that kept her wide awake at night, but an awful guilt. What a harlot she was. She could not understand this sickness in her, to desire her own father so and have him pleasure her in such a way. There were ways of the world and laws in society to how family saw each other. Siblings love as two hands of the same body, together touching and yet never being able to become one joined. Parents loved their children as themselves and not as themselves. She knew the norm, studied it well enough once Mayuri allowed her the privilege to educate herself though data files and books of etiquette, had very well instructed her in the ways of mingling with others.

There was still the matter of fact that they were considered to be akin to father and daughter. Surely if she were to ever reveal her intentions for him, she would be branded as a pariah and all that the two of them had earned and hoarded over the years as prominent officers of the Gotei 13 would be loss because of her fault. This was a society where order was kept and normalcy was what made it work. If anything, she knew herself to be attractive enough for certain standards and her friends were always offering to find her some sort of companion. She and her father were of totally different standings and though age did not matter to the shinigami, she was certainly childish compared to him.

He had his own devices and she had hers, theirs was a station that was hardly worth intermingling. Ultimately, incest was a taboo practice with such close relations as he and she, that she doubted anyone would really approve or allow of them. The reasons went on and on how such a relationship between them would not be a thing of approval went on and on, though it was mostly based on reasons that she had read about but could not embrace it as her own opinion.

The feeling of them together was all at once abominable and natural. There was the distinct feeling that what she was doing had no consequences to her whatsoever because she wanted it and he agreed to give it to her when she was 'good'. There was no chance of her getting pregnant with the use of his fingers on her and she knew him to be prepared enough that he would not let the mishap of accidentally having children on her to occur. That he would become so uncharacteristically gentle when they were in bed together compelled her to close her eyes and imagine his ghost fingers on herself again.

It was not like him to be so nice, to be so kind like that; but it felt so good and it had her think that he was perhaps showing a side of himself to her that only she would ever see in their existence shared together. Still, there was that streak of himself in his gentle actions; there but hardly noticeable until someone made the connection. Her heart shuddered when she thought about the first time she had that realization: that the affectionate Mayuri and the insane, sadistic Mayuri were but two sides of the same coin. She could just feel it in her. The fear that always hung over her head when he was with her, that fear was always constant alongside the admiration.

The ever elusive moon still up there in the sky, but waning and at its different phases. The same light she saw every evening albeit different each night. Despite what abuse he could do to her sometimes, how cruel his punishments could be even for her; he cared about her. He cared for her. Because he was a good father.

Why was it that she could not function properly with what she was doing? There she was, there he was. Her body ached for him and she knew it herself that he was the only man that was for her. No other could ever come so close to her, never touch her bare skin without cringing as her poisonous blood seeped though the pores of her flesh. He could touch her, could kiss her and hold her without the need of an antidote or quarantine.

It was very ironic that the presence of her creator had her feel normal while being with other shinigami constantly reminded her that she was not like them, that she was totally unlike them in more ways than one. By Mayuri's side, she did not have to worry about virtually anything(save angering him).

She was unable to sleep and rolled off her bed. She stood and was careful to not have the floor creak so loudly as she walked upon it. It would not do to wake up Mayuri. She dared to open her window and look outside.

Once she had opened the window and looked out, below was the third seat of the Eleventh division. The red-faced look that he gave her at surprised her, that stare that she could not understand but she wanted to see more of. So enthralled by the devotional-like look he gave to her, she did not even care that her wet hair was undone and hanging out the window.  
>Mayuri had caught her and pulled her in. Striking her across the face, he warned her to never let herself be seen in such a state outside the window of her room or even open the window to permit the chance of another seeing her. So she had been barred from the window, but strangely he did not do anything else about the window but warn her.<p>

She dared to keep the window open and look out. She leaned against the edge and felt the cool air to be enlightening for her stifled skin. As much as she was used to the labs, it could not hold a candle to the open feeling of being out. There was not a soul outside and the only illumination came from the skies.

She wondered if she was being punished for some fault committed long ago, some karma that had hung onto the ungodliness of her birth and creation. There was something indeed wrong with her for her to be feeling this way, to be thinking this way. The proof was in the room, the smell of it and the dreams that circled above head. She had counted every single time she had asked him and he had come to her. Not once in those time had she ever returned the favour to him.

We are passionate people, he had once told her. And yet, never had she seen him in such a state of ardour for flesh as she.

Did he still possess such urges? She did not think so. He was her father and creator, the pinnacle and ideal of Man for her. Surely, he would not do such distasteful things as she. She mentally chastised herself for daring to think that her father would think differently of her other than daughter. The thought of it was laughable and she reprimanded herself of the awful pride that Mayuri so often scolded her of having. Her sole flaw, he had always described to her. It did not mean that she had never once fantasized that someday he would utter the words 'I love you' to her.

Her hopes and aspirations were as fruitless as she was.

Harlot.

Slut.

Degenerate.

Reprobate.

No matter how much she analyzed him and her and them, there was always the sense that she was wrong in ways.

Her father: vengeful, independent, strict… Never would he need to tend to physical distractions as she for he was the stronger one. Everyone in the division both feared and regarded him with awe. She had heard the things that they had said about him; that he was insane, that to cross him was a death wish, he was one captain who did not seem 'alive'. Untouchable was a word that came to mind.

Nemu admitted to herself that she would never be worthy for him. She was lucky as it were to be his daughter and lieutenant. There was a bitterness that her feelings would never be reciprocated, but furthermore growing as some sort of demonic love, an unholy worship.

All alone in the darkness, she thought her father all the more purer than her dirty self could ever be.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry this was so short. But we've heard of Nemu's views a lot of time and it just felt awkward that Part two would only have Mayuri's chapter. I guess I wanted to depict a sense of irony...? Anyway, the next chapter should hopefully be up tomorrow or the day after. Sorry for this shitty chapter. It didn't turn out as well as I had wanted. <strong>


	7. Happenstance

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**At this part, I'm basically stalling while I'm drawing fan art... Or I've lost my interest in this story arc and is just eager to begin the new one. Sorry for the slow update and the boring chapter. I'm not happy with this to be honest, but at least the ending gets interesting... So this chapter probably takes place about a few months after the last chapter. I'm sort of skipping a lot of time and focusing more on MxN moments and letting their thoughts be the character developments. Anyway, there's about three chapters to part three and two chapters to part four. The fanfic is almost done, thank God. Mimi! I wanted to reply but I couldn't! Log in! **

**On with the chapter. The quote below is said by John Barrymore. I thought this one was the most fitting out of the quotes I found.**

* * *

><p><strong><em>PART THREE - SEX: THE THING THAT TAKES THE LEAST AMOUNT OF TIME AND CAUSES THE MOST AMOUNT OF TROUBLE.<em>**

* * *

><p>The rush of water was calming to Nemu.<p>

She raised the bucket high over her head and allowed the water to pour over her, her entire senses dulled and muted beneath the warm water. She gasped for a breath. The undone hair clung to her and it made her body itch. She gathered it up in her palms and wrung it as though it were a dish cloth. The rope of hair hung from her head in twists.

Nemu took prudent care in applying special oils to her hair, the only luxury she would grant herself from her pay monthly wages. She carefully observed the ends of her locks for split ends. Good, there was no need for another trim. Though she knew it served its purpose well for the encouragement of better hair growth, she did not enjoy it for it meant a period with a shorter length of hair than she would've wanted. Nemu ran her fingers through the raven hair, combing it out for tangles.

A distinct tingle shuddered throughout her legs. Mayuri was not home yet, he had made plans to stay late at the office and insisted that she go home first. Her presence was a bother to him, he had told her quite harshly. A little hurt at the outburst, she did not protest and went home early. She had small hopes that he would arrive home in a little while, but she knew it more likely that staying late at the office would lead to staying overnight at the office and even locking himself up in their archives for days on end. He had not come into her room for days and she was beginning to feel restless.

Without warning, there was the sudden feeling of cold air on her back and the sound of the door sliding open. She stiffened and turned around to see who the intruder could be, startled and weary of who it could be in their home. Relieved, she let go of her breath and her heart returned to its normal pace. Mayuri stood at the doorway, his form still covered in the various black and white paints. The shock of blue hair was utterly contrasting.

Her hands came up to cover the tips of her breasts and her knees came closer together. There was no reason to be ashamed for he had seen her bare many times: check ups, modifications, even when she had been unconscious from his abuse and he had to tend to her wounds…. Yet he had caught her in a moment where she was not prepared nor was she acceptable before him and so feminine modesty was called for.

His cold gold eyes narrowed at her and she felt even more helpless. It seemed lately that he was always glaring at her no matter what; though their time in bed was an exception albeit he was always at a view where she was denied seeing him.

Nemu was not abashed at his equal nudity, they had bathed with each other on prior occasions and the male anatomy was not foreign to her as she had often assisted Mayuri with his gigai creation and modification for the officers of the Gotei 13. And so, she did not try to persuade him to leave her until she was done bathing so that he could have his turn, but kept quiet to let him know that she did not mind if he did not mind either about sharing a bathroom with her. There was a huff from him and he entered, the room just feeling colder in his presence.  
>Still sitting on the small bathing stool, she watched him as he went to the tap next to her and filled a small bowl of water. He poured it over himself ceremoniously.<p>

_Drip. _

_Drip. _

_Drip._

The water droplets fell from his soaked and stringy hair. The white washing down and the black turning his face grey. He wiped the water from his eyes and a bandit mask of dark skin appeared through the running paint.

"Mayuri-sama…" she looked up to him.

He retorted back, "I don't want to talk, Nemu. I just want to have my bath and get to bed. Humph, I didn't know that you would be in here."

Any chance of conversation was ended there. No word was exchanged between them; it was no matter for they almost intuitively knew what the other wanted or needed. He kept his gaze down on the tile floor. Nemu hurriedly moved off the bench where she had been sitting and gestured for him to have a seat. He complied. He crouched over his knees, scars and dark skin appearing like magic as she poured water upon water over him. She kneeled behind him, the floor was hard and cold on her knees. Carefully, she took a washcloth and scrubbed around his scars as to not irritate him. There was an occasional shiver from him whenever she ran the cloth over a recent scar.

Nemu was not used to it being so quiet between them. It was quite obvious to her that they could no longer go back to the ways things were. She had crossed a line and there was no hope that she could retreat because she did not really want to. Certain things had to be done and certain things could not be resisted. What she felt for Mayuri, what she felt around Mayuri, virtually defined her and to change that would have her be self=declared as defective. It was how she was: to be the shadow behind this man, to be his most faithful follower. Mary to God, Magdalene to Christ. She held a sigh within herself.  
>They used to talk. Whenever they bathed together or whenever she washed his back for him, he discussed many a topic with her. The talks ranged from the progression of their experiment to future planning for the following month or year to even what he had on his mind about little things. It was his voice and listening to him talk that made her days, that had her feel so at peace with herself.<br>The other shinigamis: yes, they were kinder with their actions than him but they reminded her about it more than often, that she was a creation, that she was not real like they were. Their smiles, their laughter; she could hear the differences in their voices. She was not like them at all. But in the company of her captain, the way they interacted with each other made her feel not so different. That she was fine as she was. That their work and way of life suited her. That she suited it.

Together, they found their normalcy in mutual abnormality.

And she was happy.

Now hardly a word went on between them anymore that was not either about her getting him this document or that file, or her telling him that 'tonight's the night'. It seemed that no matter how close they could grow together, something else would always come along the way to drive them apart. He lifted his arm for her as she washed away the remaining paint that had been overlooked. His true for was revealed, the disguised washed away down the drain. He did look very un-Japanese. The large narrow back was all she could see. Inwardly, she wanted to just lay her cheek upon his shoulder blade and hold him close. Alas, she knew that it was certainly not allowed. It was already lucky for her that he had begun allowing her to touch him when they did that thing together. But now…

"Nemu." his voice was weary.

"Yes, Mayuri-sama." she responded, leaning in closer. She could feel the waves of exhaustion come off of him. She should hurry up, not take so long to dawdle and think and waste his time. Shampooing his hair would be done first so that as she washed the front of him, it would have a chance to dry in the open air. She scrubbed the shampoo into his hair, making sure that it would not get into his eyes. It was very frustrating. She was well aware of the fact that he could hear her thoughts and hiding them away from him was futile. But she could not predict what he was thinking as acutely as earlier days. It was one thing for her privacy to be uncovered for him, however she was much distressed that she could not tell what he was thinking about. Was he thinking about her? About them? She had no way of telling, he did not even bother to tell her such things anymore.

She poured water over his head, washing away the crown of white from blue locks. His hand had reached up while she was washing his hair and cleaning his neck and face. He fingered the ends of her dark hair between his fingertips. She wanted to say that she was thankful, but a small amount of pride surged from her that at least there was a feature about her that he could not really hate. He tangled her hair around his fingers. A smile broke through her lips and she leaned in a bit closer so that he could have easier access to the rest of her hair. From him, she felt the beginnings of small delight. The glimpse of gold appeared through the blue and she was very startled. She almost asked him if he would like to brush her hair afterwards when they were done their bath, but she recalled that he was tired and she should just finish washing him up.

Picking up the white bar of soap, she dabbed it once in water so that it should not irritate his skin and then went on to erase the dry marks of his white paint from his darkened skin. Lather, pour. Lather, pour... Repeat for about fifty more times. She began to wash at his legs, the tops of his knees. The process was very meticulous.

Without any warning, something twitched up in her direction.

It was _it_ moving that caught her eye and she could not help but look down at it as she was pouring water over him. The strength of how _it_ withstood the rushing water even impressed her. The straining flesh was at once humorous and frightening to her eyes. With a quick glance, she saw that Mayuri had not expected such a reaction out of himself other. His eyes became wider and his mouth was agape. She saw a tell-tale blush glow across his face. They both shared a mutual surprise.

_It_ appeared to be looking right at her and she could not tell if she should be appalled or flattered. She had seen such a reaction upon corpses and so it was always a grotesque thing that she did not really pay much attention to. But then to see it on Mayuri…. She was quite ambivalent to what she should be feeling. She was not unfamiliar to what a phallus was, but to see it on a living man before her - especially one she could never imagine it on - was almost shocking to her.

She could not help herself and so extended her fingertips out to touch _it_, her eyes following the curve of his lower belly to the almost bulbous tip of the exclusively male appendage. She did not really pay attention to it, but more so to the effect that resulted from her contact of it.  
>Mayuri's stomach jerked violently that even she was taken aback. There was a raspy choke from him that suddenly had her feeling excited. His hand grabbed hers and pulled it high up away from his member. Though his actions were of one indignant, she felt something very familiar in him that she dared not name for fear of insulting his name and character.<p>

She looked to his hand holding hers.

Then she looked to the stiff appendage, still looking up at her and twitching for her attention.

"Nemu…." his voice was practically a growl.

"Mayuri-sama…." she muttered back.

* * *

><p><strong>Apparently, there are cases that when men die, they actually get wood. Who knew. And it looks really strange and funny. Why humans have intercourse for fun, I'll never know! At least I had a laugh for the research of this chapter. No seriously, it's really weird looking.<strong>

**Stay tuned for next chapter! Though I must warn you: it's not going to be very long in content.**

**So... how was it? What could be improved? Was it too boring. Review please!**


	8. Intimacy

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**Let me complain a little bit before we get to the fanfic. For the past few days I've been really busy with my artwork and my writing and getting ready for the new semester that's going to start on the first of Febuary. Plus because hotmail doesn't take anymore mail from (my hotmail doesn't accept fanfic reviews, story/author alerts, and fav alerts anymore. Anyone know what's wrong with it?) besides PMs, I rarely check my hotmail.  
>Plus, most of my friends send messages over facebook and they have my cell number. So I just checked my hotmail today and found that my friends had sent me an email yesterday. They had invited me to a thai place for dinner after their exams. I didn't get it in time and just read it at 11 pm tonight. I just feel bad that I didn't tell them ahead I wouldn't be able to make it. I don't have any chagrins about missing dinner with them(if it had been sushi, you can bet your bippy I would be crying about it now).<br>I'm just glad that they emailed me and I feel bad that I had forgotten about it and thought that it was just a moment thing to say for them. Sad...**

**Anyway. Here's the newest chapter. I don't want to give away any spoilers. It's a continuation from last chapter. If you have any questions. Just ask me and I'll answer it. Again, to not give away any spoilers of this chapter, I'm going to leave my notes at the end. Now, I hope you enjoy. I find my smut writing to be getting worse... Damn it. Oh, and I just put out a new fanart pic. Check it out. **

**Now I hope you enjoy. If you have any suggestion for improvement(pertaining to character development, plot flow, grammar...), then please oh please leave it as feedback.**

* * *

><p>Finally, Nemu learned of a different sort of treatment that a man could do to a woman, and it had quite taken her aback.<p>

"My deepest apologies, sir." she said to him and it came out in a whisper. She looked down at the necrotic-like member, thick and curved upward like a snake wanting to stare her down. She looked towards him and saw that he was still scowling, yet the air of shock was clear on his face. His silence at it perplexed her. "Are you alright, sir?" she asked out of concern. Suffice it to say, she was not so naïve or unaware of the biology of men and women and so understood what a reaction like that meant. What she could not understand, however, was why was it that specifically he had such a reaction. He had seen her naked and bare, had even seen her more than naked, on many an occasion; and never had she seen him with a reaction like that.

His lip quivered and she felt his nails, short that they were, dig into her wrist. He buckled over and she heard the snarl that resonated in the tiled room. There was a piercing in her chest that was too sudden and she winced from the pain. Next came the shock and notion of disgust, of self-hate. She could not imagine from where such a feeling could've emerged from, yet she was able to identify such sensations as that. Confused, she tried to loosen her hand from Mayuri's grip, hoping that he would relinquish her. He did so and she fell back onto her rear from momentum.

The feeling of disgust had lessened and she then comprehended that the ugly feelings had come from him. It was too obvious as to why and she felt terrible about it. She wished very much to take back what she had done, he was surely angered by her action and was disgusted by her. Shame was heavy in her stomach and so was chagrin. She had to turn her head away, allowing the curtain of hair to shield herself from his sharp gaze. What a distasteful creature she was. "Please forgive me if I had offended you, Mayuri-sama. Please believe me when I say that it was not my intention."

She felt her hair being tugged and looked up from the corner of her eye. He was on the cold tile before her, with her; a lock of her hair twining around his fingers as he brought it to his face. The gold shone through the blue. "You" he began with a far-away voice, "are turning out to be more troublesome than I would've ever imagined."

She steadied herself upright to apologize once more, but her words were swallowed by him as he pressed his mouth against hers. It was very pleasant, except that the floor was too cold on her back and buttocks as they descended together. She was glad for the affection. Still, she felt the male organ to be stiffening and wondered what he would do about it. It felt out of place to be poking her. Just as she thought it was his fingers at her entrance, she quickly remembered and saw that both his hands were at her hips and buttocks, pinching and groping painfully. There was a brief pleasure when the member pocked about her entrance and she felt the familiar desire for him there. _What is he going to do now?_ She mentally thought.

Then she felt him move swiftly over her and there was that plunge. She felt him penetrate her. _It's too big!_ She thought without hesitation. And it appeared that the idea was mutual for she heard him curse and groan at the attempt to enter her. Just as she was about to suggest that perhaps they could move this to the bedroom and try something else that would not be so difficult for the two of them to do, she felt something inside of her break like a string being wound too tight. Without realization, a cry escaped her mouth. He, on the other hand, murmured something of approval and happily began his thrusting into her. Slow at first as though he was testing icy waters, then it became more charged and confident.

Her legs were very sore from spreading more and more to try and accomodate him. And there was difficulty in laying in one spot as his ardour had enough force that her skin scraped against the rougher spots of the floor, her hair sandwiched between the tiles and her body.

She had not imagined that it would feel so painful, to feel him burrowing deep inside of her. It was very much like he could split her in two. She was certainly not prepared and never could she have thought that the simple act of sexual intercourse, of human fornication, would be such a taxing thing upon the body. Was not the vaginal canal made and designed to suit an erect phallus? Had not married women done the act hundreds of time throughout their conjugal life with their husbands? She had hoped that he would take it slowly with her; unlike him, she was inexperienced with the ways of the world. The hope was quickly dismissed as she caught her first breath since he had invaded the inside of her, it was taken away from her by a gasp.

He was moving so quickly, too hard for her liking. The talons of his hand were to rough on her flesh and she was acutely uncomfortable. Cold, sore, and aching; would this end quickly? She tried to compose herself. Was the action that he was doing with his penis any different with what he had done with his fingers? Hardly, but there was such a significant difference from the pleasure she had known at his fingers to what he was doing now that she was unsure of herself and positively frightened. She begged him to wait, something was seriously wrong with her that it was hurting. He did not, but continued moving his hips and she felt that rough sand of him coursing through her. A musk filled her nostrils and she found the smell both distasteful and very masculine. She drew in a deep breath, something needle-like tearing her asunder inside.

She gripped his shoulders tightly, hoping that some pain could call his attention. Could he not hear her? Had something snapped inside of him and this was all some daze of his. She wondered briefly if he was asleep. But no, for a full second they locked eyes and the fire behind his golden orbs terrified her. She was not aware that she was crying until her eyes stung and the world was unclear to her. Her belly burned under the friction of his skin. She did not want to reject him, but she could not help herself to push him away slightly. It was all too sudden for her that she had not adjusted to the situation.

He looked angry. "Don't resist, you whore!" he hissed at her.

She had free will, yet she could never disobey a direct order from him. And so she stopped pushing against him and let her arms fall to her sides, readying herself to endure more of unendurable. She closed her eyes and thought about everything and anything but him and what they were doing now. It proved futile. This was a moment, she was shocked to see, that the two of them would ever be open with each other, ever really be one. There were her thoughts in medley: her confusion, her aches and sores, a most sharp pain in the chest like her heart was twisting into itself and ready to snap…  
>Then she felt his. A horrendous feeling that made her feel heavy in the stomach and head. <em>Lousy. Oh God. What are we doing right here? How could this happen? What am I doing? Disgusting. Terrible. Abominable. Monstrous. Parasitic. Reprobate...<em>

The words were endless and it almost broke her heart. What had she done? What had she conjured up in him? This was all her fault? If she had not been such a bad girl, a harlot. A whore. A slut…. The tears did not run anymore than it did, if anything she was running out of the energy to produce tears. But she heard the sob before she recognized it to be her own. The sobs would not stop no matter how hard she tried to silence herself or hold her breath. She did not want him to see how much weaker she could be. Too weak to not think about such unholy thoughts. To weak to resist flesh and its physical distractions. So weak that she had dragged her father down with her and too weak that she was now crying over it. What did tears ever solve, he had once pointed out to her the first time she had cried in fear.  
>Revulsion and shame stirred itself in her. Nausea was threatening to be vomited up. The soreness was still intense below. She felt his movements to be slowing down; slow but fuller.<p>

Then there was a halt from him as he loomed over her body. He trembled and he groaned as he shook all over. She opened an eye. Was he having a seizure? She wanted to ask him out loud. He let out a raspy breath, like he was choking on the air itself. When he moved away, she almost marvelled at the sight of him leaving her body. Had he been that deep? Then the sight of the detumescence of his penis scared her. The dark shrinking organ covered in blood and a slick juice that foamed white. The metallic tang was climbed all over throughout the air.

She moved to sit up, her stomach cramping and aching as she bent forward. The sight of white at her thighs was overpowering, there was more of the white than there was of the red. She touched the white and brought it to her nose, its scent was salty and reminded her of something gone bad.

There was the mutual feeling that something had occurred that should not have occurred.

She tried to stand up but found that her trembling legs could not support her weight and so remained slumped on the ground.

He proved to be stronger than she and stood up steadily without wobbling. She could see the fatigue on him from the activity and the blood remained on his penis and spots at the front of his thighs.  
>"Clean yourself up and get to bed." he told her.<p>

She nodded her head, "Yes, Mayuri-sama." He left the bathroom nude and she heard him shuffle down the hall. The air about her seemed to feel a bit lighter at his absence. Nemu felt calmer. She still found difficulty in standing up and so sat on the floor, manually cleaning herself with her hands and a washcloth. It was interesting that any spot on her lower body hurt from contact. The blood dried quickly and it was not hard to get the small fleck off of her skin. But the white was so much harder to clean up. It felt like egg yolks. This slimy sticky mass that just stuck to everything. No matter how much she scrubbed, it didn't feel like it was coming off.

Seeing the bruises and the marks of his hands appear on her skin was like magic; one second it wasn't there and the next it was blossoming violet. She put on and opened the robe she was wearing(that she had brought with her earlier) and marveled at the fact that her body had not changed in any way but it felt different than she had recalled. She had not been aware that he had gripped her so tight, her attention had only been focused on the concave piece of her body.

Half of the evidence of what had occurred had been washed down the drain, the marks on her hips were proof that she had gotten what she wanted. It had come at a price that she was sorry to pay but she did not regret it. But she was afraid now for what she and Mayuri had had between themselves was now destroyed forever. She was a whore that had seduced her own father.

There was a bothersome irritation below as she walked to her room. Her mind was hazy with exhaustion and she did not want to dwell on what had happened.

Unlike their amorous nights before, this was something that she felt was not thought back upon.

Still, she could not help herself but give in to crying again when she was wrapped in blankets in her bed.

Everything suddenly felt very cold.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm just going to come out and say it. Though it's not stated outloud in the fic, it did happen and it is implied. Nemu's first time was when Mayuri raped her. Simple as that. <strong>

**So she's interested in sex. But like most virgins or 'nymphets/lolitas', while many still feel desire and the need to have gratification, they are still conflicted about giving up their virginity. So I take it into account that while Nemu may love and want Mayuri, she's still too naive and unready for sex. Mayuri on the other hand just snaps and takes her because I believe he can imagine that when one plays with fire, one should expect to get burned. Same idea; you flirt with a lunatic, expect some pain. Plus, while I've written Mayuri to be sympathetic towards Nemu, I just don't see him as the sort of man to stop halfway through. He'll go all the way and pay for the consequences later. **

**I always do a little bit of researching for the topic of my fanfics and prompts, hopefully it has helped me to become a convincing and original writer. Apparently, even when women are aroused, if they're not aroused enough to produce enough lubrication in the vagina, sex can become really painful. So even if she's turned on, but not enough it still hurts. So that would probably be Nemu's experience, Mayuri also doesn't seem to be the one for foreplay unless he's feeling generous or something. **

**Plus, virgin women are often too inexperienced to enjoy sex. A lot of them only begin to enjoy sex when they've become more experienced with it and I've portrayed that into this chapter. Fanfics lie to you when they say that a woman's first time will always be enjoyable when she's with the one she loves. She may like that person, but the first time will always be a more clumsy and shoddy experience. Masturbation too for women is something that is not enjoyed the first time but takes a long time to build up a sex drive before she starts to find herself fancying sex-oriented activities. **

**The terrible feeling that Nemu gets is rooted mostly in self-blame for herself, not like "I seduced Mayuri and he's raping me." It's more like, "I'm a terrible person for doing this with my father." And when she starts feeling terrible, then Mayuri can mistake it for something else and feel terrible himself. Then when Nemu feels that he feels terrible, she starts blaming herself more and feels more terrible. The two of them not only feel the other, but they share feelings that sometimes it can get hard for one of them to identify which feelings are their own. **

**That's all the notes that comes to mind now...**

**This chapter is really different from it's drabble counterpart in Kurotsuchi Medley... Wow...**

**Um... so what did you think?**


	9. Ruined

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**Wow... we're like two chapters away from finishing... Maybe three chapters depending on people's opinions... So the last chapter was really bad in my opinion and I got some mixed opinons on it. All I can say is that it was interesting writing it and seeing how people thought of it. Well, here's the next chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it.**

**Actually, before you guys start reading, could I rant for a bit? Apperantly, dA's group mayuri-madness released a spoiler of Mayuri's new look. In my opinon... I hate his new look. The frame around his face and chin piece is scarier, the black paint is a little bit more black oriented than we've see but it's pretty good... It's just that huge mass of hair! What is up with that? Too much hair! His look when he took on Szayel was scary and sort of pushing it, especially with the goat horns for hair. But this huge procupine-y hair! Just pushing it! Google search the new look of Mayuri and give me your opinion. **

**When I first saw it, my reaction was like a cartoon-y me going to Mayuri with the rough sketch of the look and just preaching, **"There's already an artist on dA that has basically shocked and awed every MayurixNemu fan out there and I think I'm doing a good job here on with a few others. Do you think that changing your look is good? I mean... I know that when you get involved with another person, you change your look and all, but this is ridiculous. Or... ARE YOU TRYING TO DESTROY THIS FANDOM THAT EVERYBODY ALREADY BASHES? DO YOU WANT TO SEE MAYURIxUNOHANA FICS OR ISHIDAxNEMU FICS AND THE LIKE? THE HELL, BITCH?"  
><strong>I don't know why. I've already started on a few omake comics of me trying to convince Mayuri to go along with my fanfic ideas(funny stuff, hahaha) and for some reason we always argue. He calls my scripts cliches... Great! Now I sound crazy! Anyway, enjoy the fic now! Next chapter should be up in about a week or so. This is the end of part 3, the last part 4 is coming out next week... Or tomorrow. Depending if I can get my work done.<strong>

* * *

><p>Nemu lamented her appearance.<p>

She was not so vain a creature as to take too much care into her visage and clothing, but it was clear that her appearance gave away the indication that something was amiss with her. The marks around her hips took a few days to go away, but her eyes remained red and puffy albeit she did not spend time crying. Although she remedied the stagger in her walk to be as smooth and even as before, the pain in her loins did not go away but still bothered her.

She knew her secret had almost been exposed when she went to the fourth division to be treated for the pain. It was a surprise that she had come, they told her. And she supposed that it was for she seldom went to the fourth division without her captain and even less seldom was it for medical attention. When it came to her maintenance and health, her captain always insisted at looking at it himself.  
>They had made her strip and examined her body. The marks had turned into ghosts and hardly showed from her skin. Still, when they touched her pelvis, she had to wince at the pain. Nemu had known that it looked bad.<p>

"Does Kurotsuchi-taicho know about this?" Unohana had asked.

Although the phrasing seemed concerned, she knew what Unohana really meant. Ever since her debut into the Soul Society, rumours had flew all around concerning the relations between her and her captain and it did not subside any less. How terrible now if anyone found out that such rumours were now true. Nemu answered Unohana that her captain knew nothing about her pains and she did not want to bother him as he was busy with work. That was the truth after all since after that night, they had not even spoken to each other. She would not give up anything more that could compromise what had transpired the other night and she knew that Unohana knew it too.  
>At the end of the check up, Unohana prescribed for her some ointments that would relieve the pain below and warned her to come back if it continued hurting after a month. Although the tearing inside was minimal, infection was still a thing that was best to be wary about.<p>

A fortnight had passed since she had made the visit and the pain did lessen yet it was present evermore. On the plus side, she did not feel so often the desire for Mayuri as she did before and so believed herself to be cured in a sense and was thankful for it. That being said, work helped to distract her from emotional conflicts. She washed her face and hoped that the cold water would decrease the swelling of her eyes. Everything she did nowadays was in acute discomfort. She was genuinely worried that something was seriously wrong with her.

She left the bathroom and returned to the hallways.

Unexpectedly, she encountered Akon outside the lab doors. She inquired to the reason why he was out here instead of in there.

He answered that they were in the middle of a procedure and him and his nicotine habit would somehow alter the effect. He did not question it anymore than he had to and so took the opportunity to go for a smoke outside. He gestured to her face. "Are you okay, fukutaicho?"

She knew what he was asking about. "Yes." she answered and explained that it was a recent allergic response to something that one of the women in her club had brought in for a club meeting.

His look was sceptical of the answer and she understood too well why that would seem like a lousy answer. "The Chief." he began with, and at this Nemu stiffened. "I've noticed that he's been out of the labs for a while. Usually he makes his rounds with you but from what I've heard from the others: he's been overlooking paperwork."

She nodded her head, "The paperwork has increased and the Ninth has been very stubborn of having the paperwork in earlier than usual." She was not even sure if the excuse made sense, but it seemed somewhat plausible as long as 'paperwork' and 'ninth division' was in the same sentence together.

The sceptical look grew more extreme as the brow on his race was raised higher. "I suppose." he took an inhale of his cigarette and the grey wisps came out with his next words, "But the Chief doesn't like paperwork. Even when he was still the third Seat of the Twelfth, he always gave his paperwork to someone else to do for him. So then, is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything is okay." she replied. He reached a hand out towards her and it was only when he brushed her cheek that she was aware that she had been crying again. Her hand immediately jumped to her eyes and wiped away the salty water. She began to explain that her allergies had her have dry eyes which resulted in frequent tears.

His hand moved to the spot below her shoulder and comfortingly rubbed at her upper arm. "In best interests, I would say to get a cake for the Chief. If I still recall from my days in the 'Nest, he's never been able to get upset over cake."

The door suddenly opened and she would've jumped in surprise if she could. Mayuri stood at the doorway. It had been too long since they had seen each face to face. She noticed that the composition did not look so good: Akon outside the door and she close enough to him that he had his hand on her arm. Even Akon felt that the distance was too close and took a step away from Nemu. Mayuri said nothing but briskly walked past the two of them.

"When did he come into the labs?" Nemu asked.

He took a puff of his cigarette, "About the same time that you left."

Nemu bid him goodbye and returned to the labs, feeling rather hurt. She did her rounds, making sure that everyone stayed on task and that no serious problem was arising. She overlooked the monitor that Rin was typing at and she made a few minor corrections as he leaned back. "Good job. Keep up the good work." she told Rin. He snapped to and thanked her for the compliment and there came the sound of fervent computer typing from him in the effort to 'keep up the good work'. She returned to overlooking the other scientists at their monitors and repeated the same mantra whenever she corrected what little mistakes they had or saw that the work was up to par.

"Is something the matter with the Chief, fukutaicho?" Megane asked her. A set of beakers was in her hands.

Nemu knew, she knew what was wrong with him but she felt the words trapped in her throat. She could not tell anyone what had transpired for fear of damaging their reputations and tarnishing their ranks. "I do not know." she lied.

Megane informed her that all morning before Nemu had arrived, the Chief had been very quiet. He did not say as much as he did and that he stayed mostly cooped up in his office. Then it was when Nemu had left did he come to see them. She inquired further if something had happened between the two of them.

Nemu kept quiet and lied that everything was still the same, hardly anything out of the ordinary.

Megane then asked if Nemu had been crying.

No, she answered truthfully. At the terse reply, Megane left and proceeded with her work. Nemu wondered if there was such a significant change about her and her captain that everyone had noticed it in one way or another.  
>She had only grown aware and sure that Mayuri was avoiding her. During work, he would not have her at his side like before and often isolated himself away that albeit she knew where to find him, she would not dare anyway for she felt that there was a reason why he would hide himself away without telling her. He had begun working early and leaving late so that even at home she rarely had the chance to see him. On one occasion, she had willed herself to stay up until she could confront him. Alas, by the time she had tuned in to the fact that the shuffling sounds was him going to his room, he had already disappeared through the doorway, his white captain haori trailing behind him. She was ambivalent to whether she should at least bid him goodnight and so stood in front of his door for a good ten minutes before giving up and retuning to her own room.<br>Worse than missing him in the morning when he left for work(for while she had set her alarm to wake up at six the following morning, it appeared that he had set his earlier for four), she had later learned after a day or so that he had taken to living in his offices. She quickly wondered how Mayuri was feeding himself. Now even at work, he would go anywhere near her or say a word.

She felt the crushing grip in her chest. Did she really mean so little to him now? Did he really hate her enough that he no longer cared who she associated with. Not so long ago, he would've brought hell on her for being two feet in the presence of another man besides him; now he said nothing if another man touched her. She was quite at a loss at what to do?

She doubted that even cake could win her back into his graces and so spent the rest of the day in a sort of dejection at the situation at hand. If this kept up…  
>The thought of a life without being at Mayuri's side was almost enough to have her go mad.<p>

* * *

><p>"You seem sad, Nemu-san." Rangiku pointed out.<p>

Nemu stepped out of her daze and questioned almost like she had been paying attention the whole time. "Why do you say that, Rangiku-san?" she questioned politely.

Rangiku gave a shrug of her shoulders as she continued cupping her cheek in hand. Her breasts were propped up on top of the table as she slouched over tiredly. "It's a woman's intuition. Something about you seems different…" she smiled a small smile, "Could it be that you've fallen in love? Maybe having a case of heartbreak?"

What does love feel like? She wondered.

"Eh? You don't know what love feels like?" Rangiku asked.

Nemu had not thought that she had repeated that thought inquisition out loud.

"Do you want to know?' Rangiku asked jokingly.

Nemu quickly surveyed the surroundings of the room. Nanao was writing paperwork. Isane, Yachiru, and Momo were playing go with each other. Soi fon was playing with a cat doll and Rangiku had her magazine in front of her. Nemu supposed that this would be a good time to ask. She nodded her head. Rangiku began explaining the symptoms of the so-called epidemic: the butterflies in the stomach, the hurt in the chest whenever you do not see him, the tightening in the chest that could be mistaken for hurt when you do see him…  
>The topics grew from there. Although Nemu was more or less experienced in some sense, it did not hurt to inquire and know whether or not what you have been doing is correct. What should hands be doing? What is sex like? How long does it last? Does it hurt? Most of the questions involved the effect a woman could have on a man. How do you properly kiss someone? Did men enjoy the use of tongue when kissing? Do they enjoy caressing as much as women? A man uses his fingers to fondle and tease a woman's vagina, so what does a woman do for a man? What is the best way to approach a man?<p>

In such a topic, there was not enough time for Rangiku to finish explaining what she knew to Nemu. However, Nemu felt that she learned a sufficient enough from her friend. It was best for the women to return to their proper divisions.

It was Nemu's turn that month to take Yachiru home back to the eleventh division, odd months was Rangiku's turn. As they were exiting, Rangiku ventured to ask for the name of Nemu's so-called crush. She gave the implications that there was no such person and Rangiku only begged for a clue or two so that she may guess. Nemu was stubborn and although she would've liked to acquiesce to Rangiku for being a good friend, divulging for her what she knew; Nemu knew it was equally good that she keep the name a secret for women liked both the discovery of a secret and the suspense of one as well.  
>Nemu only promised that if the chance of romance ever occurred, then Rangiku would be kept updated of the trend.<p>

Knowing that as the farthest that Nemu would betray of her privacy, Rangiku agreed and let the Twelfth and Eleventh division lieutenants be on their way.

The walk back to their divisions was a long one and it was already dark outside. Nemu had no fear of the night. It was late and if anything happened, she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Besides, there was no one at home waiting for her.

In her arms, Yachiru stirred. Nemu rubbed her back, not wanting to disturb the little girl's sleep. She mumbled out Nemu's sound and she was unsure if this was done unconsciously in sleep or not. Not willing to test, she remained silent and only became aware that Yachiru was awake when the half-sleeping girl asked if it was true that Nemu had a crush on someone.

Nemu replied that she could neither confirm nor deny the question.

A tired Yachiru was a seldom thing to see that usually only the bloodthirsty captain of the Eleventh division saw. She begged Nemu to tell her, she would promise not to tell anyone and she swore it on her heart. Nemu still would not comply. Then the sleeping girl offered a deal. Yachiru would tell her who she liked if Nemu also agreed to exchange names. She was surprised to think that so youthful a little girl that Yachiru was already had someone close to her. Nemu was not curious to the name.

Apparently, Yachiru took her silence to be consent. "I like Ken-chan." she said oh-so-sweetly. Nemu then understood the like that Yachiru probably had in mind. Relief surged in her that at lease there was still someone more childish in nature than her. "But I don't think that Ken-chan likes me that way. Ken-chan wants someone more grown up." Nemu faltered but did not halt her steps. "But as long as I can fight with Ken-chan, I'm happy. So even if Ken-chan likes someone else…" her words drifted off, "Your turn, Nemu-chan."

A pause here.

"The person does not like me anymore." she confided in Yachiru.

There was the question of why.

"Because I did a bad thing." There was no logical reason why Nemu should choose to tell such a little girl what she would not tell anyone else. Maybe because they were both lieutenants with bloodthirsty captains. Perhaps because in a chronological sense they were not that much different in age from each other. Perhaps it was because they were both in the same situation: both infatuated with their captains; one with a father figure and one with an actual father. Perhaps it was because of how they were expected to act grown up for their age. Whatever the reason, Nemu confided in this little girl.

"What bad thing did you do, Nemu-chan?" she asked with a yawn.

"I fell in love with him." she answered truthfully.

* * *

><p><strong>You guys know that I usually write happy, conclusive endings in one way or another for my fics. That's my thing. If I wanted a sad fic involving the Twelfth division, then I would read some NemuIshida fics or Mayuri/Kenpachi fics(Mayuri/Kisuke is my limit. I just don't see Mayuri and Kenpachi). **

**Now the question is... **

**Do you guys want a lemony finish to the fic or just the conclusive 'everything works out fine and dandy' finish? **

**The former is more steamier, the latter would probably have a better effect on the fic. **

**What's your opinion? If I don't get your opinion, I'm probably going to go with what I intended to do. **

**Oh, next chapter is from Mayuri's view about the whole thing from the rape to... what is the current time now... Mayuri's part is up next! **


	10. Cowardice

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**So this fanfic is coming to a close. This is the last part and after this, I'm probably going to be posting up a few prompts before I post more multific fanfics. Hm, do you think that I've made enough of a name for myself on ? Like if anyone mentions MayurixNemu, not only will Mimi's name come up for dA fanart, but mine will come up for fanfics? **

**Anyway, back to writing. So... this chapter ended up longer than I had planned and I guess there was so much about mayuri that I wanted to say that I have to divide this chapter into two parts. And because of that I'm putting in both endings where there's citrus and where there's fluff. What comes first, you guys have to help me. Do you want fluff at the last chapter or at the next chapter? Do you want citrus at the next chapter or last chapter? Get back to me on that please!**

**So I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. It took a while to write actually and if you're confused about anything, please leave the question in a review and I'll answer it for sure. **

**The quote below is said by James Earl Jones.**

* * *

><p><strong><em>PART FOUR - ONE OF THE HARDEST THINGS IN LIFE IS HAVING WORDS IN YOUR HEART THAT YOU CANNOT UTTER.<em>**

* * *

><p>Mayuri rubbed his eyes tiredly, he was getting so tired of looking at the seemingly endless characters at the page. He lamented that the Ninth division was still old-fashioned in the sense that they still used paper instead of computers. Work could be done so much faster with the held of computers. Besides, he was a captain and had better things to do than paperwork, if anything he should be in his labs conducting new experiments. Then he recalled his reason for cooping himself up in his office.<p>

He simply wanted to eviscerate himself; remove the stomach where the pit of guilt lay, the intestines that were twisted steel…Most of all, he wanted to cut away his heart. The damned heart that made him feel and that made him weak. What sort of man was he now? What sort of scientist feared his own creation? If anything, he should've destroyed her when she confessed these feelings of desires. With her destruction, it would've offered a chance for improvement. He had added many improvements to her design over the years, what was to stop him a ninth time?

It was in poor judgement that he thought nothing could ever come to fruition from it. He had done the one thing he should not have, he had let himself become involved with her when it was better that he had kept all emotions out of the way and felt only her presence. Yet the task in itself was easier said than done. How could he not feel anything for his daughter when they shared such an empathetic link, that he was influenced by every nuance of hers? Her feelings fed his to the point that he had begun conjuring up emotions of his own. Such feelings were fodder to him and yet he had accepted them, hid them well from everyone around him. But he was a man after all. A cruel man, he knew, that strived only for the science in everything; but he was a man nonetheless.  
>Very well, he would allow himself the small luxury of emotion. Was emotion not a science as well? A qualitative thing that was different, a thing that was constantly changing. Could it not be considered a phenomena why someone cried when in sadness or distress? Why yawn when exhausted? When did yawning do for a body to relieve any stress of exhaustion? Why feel arousal? Feelings were a nuisance, he concluded. He had done himself a folly by allowing himself to feel what he had denied himself for so long. It was refreshing in the beginning and he had found small joy with his creation. But never once had he ever imagined that it would come to this.<p>

She was not perfect, that he could understand and he did not mind the fact that she was lacking in so much, his standards only grew by the day. Yet it did not leave any excuse for him. He had lived and he had had his time to live and know living. If anything, he was basking into his golden years now by fully devoting himself to his work. What better fate for an afterlife was that? He should've known better, had better control of himself. He had ingested countless drugs, kept himself addicted to them like opium and mutilated and rebuilt his body to the point that there was nothing about him anymore that was natural, that had been with him at birth. All was in some sense artificial and phoney and he had found refuge as something akin to that. He had been borne and he had lived and he had died to live again. A completely natural beginning into an artificial existence.

His head was aching while looking at the characters, the eyes feeling fatigued. He placed the brush down and leaned back into his chair. It had been so long since he had done paperwork by himself. He had not even done paperwork since he was probably the lieutenant under Urahara. He rubbed at his eyes with his fingertips, careful not to wipe away any of the paint upon his face.

The idea was that he should've had control, with his years he should've had control. But he had lost it to her. His control always dwindled in her company. Before, the idea of her being infatuated with him was accepted. He was her maker, no different from God who fashioned Eve from Adam's rib. Another level of worship to him was just fine. But never had he ever imagined that he would capitulate to her. Decades, it had been since he had felt sexual desire and his time in the Maggots Nest had cured him of his libido. Then to re-emerge back outside had hardly changed a thing. The women were beautiful and he ever had to admit that he had thought it understandable when he had heard that Unohana was described as the most beautiful and desirable woman in all of the Soul Society. Yet none of them nor Unohana had caught his attention, he was content to be back in labs and playing with chemicals. The reactions were by far the most interesting: unexpected yet controlled under his will.  
>The comparison conjured up a memory that he did not want to recall. She was unexpected in her actions, surprising him a little every day in every thought and gesture. Her design had bee ingenious, a creature that was capable of changing and feeling on her own. His only interference was her body and the program of her soul that enabled personal self-growth. Her ambitions, based upon blood and genetics, grew to be more of her own - he only the influence. Yet he was not so foolish as to give her free reign like that; no, it was him that pulled and tugged at her strings. She was his doll, his daughter to care for and raise.<p>

He had not even expected her in the bath, so tired and preoccupied with sleep that he had not allowed himself to think. If only he had been more alert and aware then, the whole mess could've been avoided and he would have Nemu in his office now helping with his paperwork while he could relieve himself of this hassle and go to his labs.  
>They had not even bathed together since he had begun the habit of servicing her nightly. There was an unexpectedness of him to go night-crawling to her rooms. That occasion had been a surprise and he would not allow himself to back out like that to her, he had already subjected himself to her too many times already. He was still master of the division and of her. So he had went in ahead. She played the good daughter for him and for a second, he longed nostalgically for old days before she had grown and before he had resorted to being another source of care for her. And he enjoyed the silence for a bit, just being in her company like before. He would never admit this out loud to anyone or even confide in her and he would rather go to hell first than ever admit it, but… his side felt lonely without her there when she had always been with him for years.<p>

The presence had been overwhelming, he had been drunk in her and his senses. He had made her to fashion his ideals, for what was the point of creating something to be at his side at all time if he only wanted to kill them all the time. Probably only for her, he felt an iota of fondness. Her hair hung before her bountiful breasts and milky skin. His fingers had reached for the dark raven locks and he twirled them around his fingers. He had denied himself the treat of her hair since that fateful night when his will broke towards her. He felt her desire, saw her want and smelt her arousal. Such physical baits and the feed of her emotion had made his palate water for her. He lost himself and so had revealed his intentions, the tell-tale limb. It had caught him by surprise, to have the mutual want exposed so brazenly like so. And he had felt the greatest shame when she looked at it, when she touched it.

He had hissed in a violent pleasure, enjoying the contact and knowing that it would lead to his undoing. He had not intended to lose himself in a frenzy. A quick kiss, a little reward for being so good so far. But after he had wanted more, the first taste of sweet and he could not stop. His mind could not have stopped his body, it knew what it wanted and how to get it. The clumsy fornication was not like anything he had ever done before nor was it anything that he would've ever done period. The memory produced a bitterness in his mouth. It was quit amazing that he held his daughter's rape to be so sickening to himself.  
>He had done worse, much worse, to her. He had once cut her open and let her regard her own systems inside and even cut her apart as a punishment. It was illogical that this rape should affect him so much, disturb him so much. Because she did not deserve such a treatment from him. All other times had had their reasons and because he had felt it a service to her, to teach her to develop her tolerance for pain and to improve the workings of her body. What did the deflowering of her prove? What use did it have? Useless like art and beauty.<p>

He recalled that she had tried to push him away because she had said that it hurt her and he had ordered her to not resist. He did not regret the words, but he had regretted that he had been so hungry for sexual congress, he had to coerce her for his satisfaction. That was weakness, a weakness he had always thought he had been above of. All the while he hated himself for it, how abominable he was for doing it. Banging away at her when it was obvious that she felt no pleasure from it. He knew it better to stop, but could not and would not. He knew that she was powerless against him and he took advantage of that.  
>Worse was that he had enjoyed it. That he had revelled in the warmth of her inside and delighted in the way that he body caressed and hugged his penis. Her body that warmed up his skin and had him tremble all over. And he had come inside her, numerously that he recalled the sight of the white oozing out of the opening of her. That hot white, still bubbling and leaking out of her scared him. The sight of it upon her thighs and the dark hairs below was too different from his memory of it washing down the drain, the white of his paint looking exactly like the white of his member that it could very well have been him simply washing away another coat of paint.<p>

And looking at her like that: ravished, tired, spent, red all over and her hips with flowering bruises from his hands and nails… It only excited him more and he wished again to take her, to really show her what a man was like. Nothing like fingers, but what a body could do for another. And all those thoughts had come crashing with the heavy thought of disgust and guilt and self-hate. Before he could risk it again(fucked he already was), he had left. This was an insult to him in almost every way imaginable. The list of how was endless. He felt that her fear of him had intensified since the congress.

He wanted to know how she was faring, he knew he had been too rough with her that first time when he should've eased the two of them into it. But as he had approached her door the next morning, he had heard her crying in her room, a very small sound of sniffling and gasping. He had felt the hate, so strong that it seemed almost everywhere as he touched the door. Too much in shock from his own actions last night, he had withdrawn and had not dared any point of contact with her. He was simply at a loss to what to do.

He supposed that he could've resumed duties with her as usual, forget that the whole thing had happened. But to just see her… something in him could not bear to see her and he only damned himself further for being so much of a fucking weakling that he could not face her. He wondered if something was wrong with him that he could not face her, that he did not want to face her. What could he really do? In her presence, he felt the horrible nagging feeling of remorse and regret. In her presence, he wanted her. To recall that face: flushed, eyes moist, and hair spread everywhere. He wanted to see it again, he wanted to break her and see that face again. He was torn between what he knew that he could rightfully do and what he knew that he should not lower himself to. And so he needed time to plan and think.

This was a subject and occurrence that he had no experience about. He was not sure what to do and so alienated himself away from her until he came to a decision what he could do. It was not just him, it was her effect on him. A musing was that he should kill her. Another was that he should lobotomize her. Most of his thoughts had involved getting rid of her. But he had grown attached to her, the creation and daughter he had strived to have. Plus, her disappearance would raise questions. He was quite at a loss and so abided his time, thinking and planning about what he could do.

The worry was accompanied by a caution. He had thought that he had become more adept at hiding his emotions, at not lashing out so much, but after the last casualty in his division, the questions had come up. Was everything okay? Had something happened with him? He seemed stress, had something occurred?  
>There was a cloud over him that perhaps Nemu had somehow revealed to another what he had done to her. That sooner or later there might be evidence of his abhorrent act surfacing. Would someone discover their terrible secret? He had heard the rumours when he had first created Nemu, when he kept her by his side and called her his daughter. He had hated and he had known what talk sometimes floated around the Seireitei about him. His experiments received less attention than the possibility of a licentious personal life. Now they would think of him having a weakness and they would go straight for it to get to him.<p>

He saw the chance that he may have fucked up his relationship with his daughter. He had dragged her over a line and tore her asunder there and left her. All their years now meaningless because he had ruined it for a good time for himself. His blood boiled when he recalled seeing her with Akon. She had already found herself another pair of arms to run to. Too cowardly to say or do anything but run. The aversion had its limits. He sorely wished that he could've gone back and put some sense into the two of them. He -

There was an interruption as someone knocked on the door of his office. He had only turned around when said person let themselves in.

"Sir." began the timid shinigami, "we've found ourselves short of chemical x and the hollow in sector 5 is bleeding through his skin."

He scowled.  
>For one thing, they had a whole storage of chemical x and he wasn't the only person that had access to it. Any science department head had access to the storage of chemical x, Akon and Megane being some examples that came to mind. Secondly, there was a documented alternative in the specimen's folder for what to do should any bleeding occurred. All this Mayuri calmly and instantly thought in his mind. There was a crash of a paperweight flying at the shinigami.<br>"Are you an idiot?" He verbally repeated his thoughts out loud regarding the chemical x and the file of the Hollow. "I'm busy! I have all this paperwork to catch up on and you thought yourself so important that you could just barge in here without my permission!" He stood up, his limbs already taking control of him before he could've registered. "I have half a mind to feed you to my hollows!"

At this the shinigami took off running.

Mayuri panted heavily, a little shocked at his own outburst. Everything irritated him lately. Everything just bothered him that he wished he could've set the whole world on fire. He was tired most of all. He returned to his seat and proceeded with the rest of the paperwork. He had left it aside for long enough. The thought of Nemu and Akon returned to his mind. What was it about them that so bothered him? That they looked almost to be suitable for each other. Really, there was better reason for Nemu to be with Akon than she to be with him instead. They were both young in appearance and they were not related…

Could he go on with the rest of his existence not seeing Nemu? Would just knowing that she was there would be enough for him? But then what was the point? He had created her for specific purposes, then to have her not at his side ruined the idea. She was there for reasons: to be the proof of his genius in gigai modification, to be an ideal lab assistant, his lieutenant, his companion in audacity… She was the child that he had spent years waiting for, working for, striving for…

He put down the brush, rubbing at his sore wrists. He should make a complaint or possibly a program that could scan reports and convert them to texts upon his computer. There was the tightening in his chest. He supposed that his heart was overworking again, he should probably take a relaxant.

He got up from his seat and went to the cabinets in the back of his office. The office was well stocked with necessities, clothing and even a cot where he had been spending his evenings. His back longed for the comfort of his bed but after the last incident when he and Nemu had almost seen each other reminded him that it was probably better for the two of them and his work if he just stayed over at the office. The excuse was feeble and a voice in the back of his mind mocked him for his stupidity and his ability to make up reasons for simply being cowardly. He downed a few of his peels, feeling a calming effect on himself and thanking God that he was a genius to think up such concoctions.

His ears caught the sound of someone entering his office. Had these shinigami no idea that he was not in a good mood? He had already made an example of few shinigami who had been unlucky to feel the brunt of his anger after a bad day and he was in no mood to be the generous tolerant captain. It had been a long time since he had used kido on anyone, opting to use his poisons instead. The energy about his hands burned, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who had come into his office.  
>The sight of her had him feel a strange mix of feelings; some that had him feel relieved and compelled to have her back at his side, and some that made him want to strike her - this ghost of his crime of passion. Mayuri felt an acute discomfort in his gut at seeing her.<p>

He spoke for the first time in a while to her. "What do you want?" His voice echoed in the office.

The space around them seemed even more fathomless. The heel of her shoe clacked as she took a step closer to him, her head held low. He sensed an uneasiness and fear about her. He sensed also a determination and a feeling that he had not felt from her in a long time.  
>He was in the dark to what she might do. There was a reason to believe that perhaps she had come to confront him for what he had done to her, possibly request leave from him.<br>No, even if he would not see her, he would not relinquish the hold he had on her. She was his, forevermore.

"Forgive me." Nemu began, "If this may seem impertinent of me. But I must speak to you."

* * *

><p><strong>What will she say to him?<strong>

**Anyway, review please because it makes me happy and just because. **

**What did you think of the chapter?**


	11. Mutual

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**Happy Valentine's Day, people!**

**here is the newest chapter for Quote. I hope you guys enjoy it. There's not really of an author's note because this chapter explains a lot of stuff and you know...**

**Just advertising for myself. I just posted up a new pic on dA for the holiday and it's under the id name of Ngoc12 on deviantart. Please check it out. Also, I'm entering in this tshirt design contest and it would be really swell if you guys would vote for me please. **

**Anyway, here's the chapter.**

* * *

><p>The air hung awkwardly between them. Mayuri was at a loss at what to do; he was not sure if he should confront her himself and set the record straight between themselves, or whether he should kick her out of his office. The ideas between those two choices were endless. He was brought out of his valley of thoughts at her voice.<p>

"Sir, we have not had a chance to talk since…" her voice appeared to trail off and he knew just at what she was getting at. Her face was getting flustered, he saw the frustration crease upon her brow.

Mayuri supposed that he could've been nicer, it was the least that he owed to her after that night. But he was in no mood. He was tired and irritated. He waited for her; wanting her to hear herself finish that sentence.

She was tripping over her words and when she found that she could not progress with what she was saying, she began all over again. "Sir, we have not had a chance to talk since…" he distinctly noticed her fidgeting with her fingertips. It was an awful habit of hers to be fidgeting and he suggested to himself that he should have her remedy that vice. "… Since that night we had had sex with each other." She seemed to be relieved at spouting that out.

He, on the other hand, feigned indifference. "We haven't had time to talk because we've both been busy with work. Or have you been lazing off, you dullard?" he barked at her. The image of her and Akon was suddenly conjured up in his head and he could practically feel his blood begin to boil at the memory. He saw her cower before him. He took a step closer to her, feeling his temper rising by the second, "Are you so incompetent without me that I must watch you every second of every day?" The image of _her seeking comfort in Akon's arms_ was conjured up briefly in his head, for while the image was inevitable in his active imagination, he did not want the chance of her seeing it. "Don't insult my intelligence by even implying that I raised you to be totally helpless!" _Her kissing Akon with those same lips he forced to his own_. "And what are you even doing here?" _Her pressed up against the wall with Akon_. "You should be working!" _Akon's name being moaned by her_. "Don't just come into my office unless it's about work!" _Her coming beneath Akon's form in the office_. "Don't go wasting my time!" _Her and Akon laughing together, at him_.

Feeling quite infuriated at this point, and before he could control himself, he struck her hard upon the top of her head. He felt the sharp pain on the top of his head as though it was his own.

Her voice did not waver, but it was incredibly quiet. Had it not been for the cones that were now his ears, he doubted that he would've heard her. Her lips barely moved as she spoke. "Forgive me, sir, for troubling you. But I… I wanted to see you, sir."

He faltered, a pang in the chest at what she said and something churned inside of him.

She looked up at him, taking advantage of his momentary silence. "You and I have not seen each other for so long, sir." She started crying. None of that annoying sobbing came from her, but he saw the river of water run down her cheeks and her eyes become irritated and red and puffy from the salt in her tears. Her hands remained folded demurely together in front of her and her head lowered down more if that was possible.

He had meant to retain the same tone that he wanted, but a lump in his throat had prevented it. "We've been too busy…" came out in a hoarse whisper that grinded against his own ears. He pulled out a kerchief from the sleeve of his robe and handed it to her. "Dry your tears, you silly girl. I don't need a puddle forming on the floor and risking slipping on it. Stop crying. What has crying ever done to solve a problem?"

She dabbed at her cheeks and apologized. She had not even been aware that she had been crying, she told him.

He thought it a lie for those green eyes of hers was already red and swollen he noticed when she had first walked into his office.

She did not return the kerchief to him, she told him that she would wash it of her tears and return it to him as soon as possible.

He thought it a good decision on her part for he was just about to tell her to do so.

The air was awkward between them again and he did not like that sensation. Wanting to break the tension in the surroundings, he suggested tea. "I suppose I can spare a few minutes to discuss whatever it was that incited you to come here. But first, make tea."

* * *

><p>The tea was probably one of the things he missed the most about her. Although he was more than capable of making his own tea, it just had a better taste when someone else made it for him. Besides, how could he trust any of his division members to make tea for him? Either they would complain about being subjected to such a menial task, or they very well may poison him. Albeit his body was immune to most poisons, it was more effective against his poisons. Any foreign poison in his body would not be enough to kill him, but it would still be enough to leave him incapacitated for a few hours at least to a few days at most to concoct a cure.<p>

He sipped it up eagerly and she poured for him another cup. Such a good girl she was that she had even took out the cookie tin and prepared a small plate of sweets for him. Though the tension in the air was still thick and he knew that he was only kidding himself by just ignoring it. This had to be resolved.

"What," he took one more sip, "was it that you needed to discuss about?"

She looked up from her hands. "I have been wondering about this since that night. What are we now, sir? Are we lovers?" she asked him quietly.

He was glad that he was not drinking his tea for he knew that if he was, he would've spat it out in shock. She was quite brief to the point. What was the answer? He wondered. In a better world, he would tell her that they were lovers, that there was no need to be so stupid to ask such a question and that there was a comfortable cot in the back that surely would have enough room for the two of them.  
>However, he pulled himself out of his reverie and quickly analyzed the situation. He was a captain and she was his lieutenant. He was her father and creator and surely in the eyes of everybody else, it would appear that he had used such positions to take advantage of her. Then there was the matter of his feelings. He could not recall the last time he had ever felt that way for a person. He could not remember the last time that someone had cared for him and he had cared back for her in return. Such feelings were new to him and were nice compared to stress and anger and frustration, but he hated those feelings.<p>

He hated the unpredictability that they brought and he hated the fact that they resembled something of a weakness to him. Suppose that everyone were to see Nemu as his Achilles heel? Of course he would never let that happen, but the chance that she could be used against him was unwanted. He did not want others to see him going soft either. He did not want them to think that he could feel emotion. Affection leads to love(that damned confusing word!), love leads to compassion, compassion to remorse, remorse to mercy… And mercy leads to a hindrance in his work. He could not feel. He would not let himself feel. If he would ever do the cardinal sin to feel, he would lose himself and it would destroy himself.

It seemed like a karmic torture to have someone like her before him and not be able to express himself to her like a normal man would to a woman. Because he did not want to lose her in his madness as he had already sullied her purity with his audacity. Because he did not want to stop himself from being himself. Because he did not want the two of them to change any more than they had already did, he would reject her 'love' and anything else that came with it. Never would Kurotsuchi Mayuri love another. Never would he even utter that horrid word. Were they lovers, she had asked. He repeated his thoughts out loud for the both of them. "No."

She seemed to be at a loss at what to say. He meant what he said, but he did not want it any more than she did.

In a better world, he would allow himself such a luxury. Alas, he would not change himself for anything; forever, he would be known as the fearful captain of the accursed Twelfth division. "Do you even know what you're asking, you stupid girl? 'Are we lovers?' Just because we fucked once does not change anything." he told her angrily.

She appeared quite distressed at what he was saying. But he had to tell her. A clean break was better for the both of them. What was the point of continuing this farce of a relationship. It had already gone too far when he had decided to keep her as his own instead of bag and tag her for storage away. Her presence had quite changed him, had made him feel things that he did not want or expect. So to protect the both of them from his bad decisions and his moments of weakness, he would be cruel to be kind.

"Tsk, you are absolutely imbecilic. I am your creator and you are my creation. Every inch of you is mine. You're mine." He got up from his seat and turned away from her. What more could he say to her that would hurt her? What more could he say to her to get the idea through to her head that they would never be together? she followed him into the main hall of his office. They stood awkwardly in the hall, halfway to the door. It seemed unsure at this point what could possibly happen.  
>"I have every right to do whatever it is I want with you, whether to take you apart or feed the scraps of you to my hollows, you are nothing more than my doll to do as I please. Get out of here and get to work. We've dallied far too long over nothing."<p>

She moved a step towards the door and he was expecting what they had to be done and over. But there was something in her that he had not expected and there would be times that he would regret that spark in her or praise her for it. Just as she had made him a little softer, he had made her a little harder. She passed by him, her voice was strong as she asked him, "What are we, then?"

He did not really know how to respond and he was unsure whether he should do nothing or strike her for such disrespect as to question him once more about the topic.

"You say that we are not lovers, that what we have done has not changed anything between us. But it has changed. We do not see each other anymore. We do not talk and we do not even work together. Have I been so bad that you must avoid me now? Am I so abominable that you do not want me by your side any longer?" She was crying again and although he felt no remorse for being the cause of her tears, he could at least admit to himself that he was well aware as being the one who made her cry once more.

He turned his head away, not wanting to see her. He seethed, "The very idea of us, of continuing this farce, is close to laughable. Here, you are also my daughter and I am your father. What would everyone say if they were to know? You idiot, you never really think, do you? That's another fault of yours. You're too proud and you're too impulsive. Why, I bet you don't even understand what we did. Does the word 'incest' cross your mind?" He knew that she had encountered the word many times. Could what they had done really count as incest? She was not a true daughter but more akin to a clone of himself. Who was to argue and say that it was not masturbation then?

She nodded.

He sighed out loud. "You still have those urges of yours, don't you?"

She answered quite discreetly that he was correct in assuming so.

"Akon would be a suitable choice for a bed mate for you. But I would not allow it to distract you in your work." What was he saying now? All that talk of her being his and now he was willing to let her go to another man? That strange emotion was making him say things that he would not say, do things that he would not do.  
>He bit his tongue and continued speaking. "It was my mistake to help you that way, I admit it. You are still my lieutenant and my daughter. I give you permission to go to another man as long as I am informed and approve of who the partner is. Don't forget where your priorities lie. Just because I let you lie with another man does not mean anything else. The entire idea of what I did for you before was tiring and it was an annoyance. I won't have of it anymore." Could he still really have her when he gave her to another?<p>

He heard her voice crack. "I don't want Akon." More tears were running down her face and he saw them drip off the curve of her jaw. "I do not want Akon. I only want you, sir."

He scoffed, "What would they say about father-taicho and daughter-fukutaicho. My reputation would be in shreds. Anyone with a clear head would see it as wrong." He dared himself to look at her.

"Forgive me, sir. But I do not want anybody else. I don't care that I am your daughter(forgive me for saying that). There is no one else for me." she said to him.

"I am your father and creator." he began.

"If you will still have me, then I do not mind being your daughter." she countered.

"Nobody can ever know and if they ever find out, it'd be the end of us." he warned.

"No one would ever know. I would rather die than ruin you." she swore.

"I cannot change myself. I cannot become gentle or kind like other men." he informed her.

"I would not change you for anything. You are you as I am I. Besides, you have already been more than kind to me for giving me life when you did not have to." she said.

"Would you be afraid of having a man like me? A man who will kill you whenever he wants? A man who's of poison?" he asked, interested.

She smiled as she looked up at him and then it faded away from her face. "Please, sir. You are trying to convince me that we are not right for each other. The way I see it: there's no one else we can be right for."

"I will never love you." he concluded for her.

"As long as I can be by your side, I don't need anything else."

He felt her words to be genuine. "Nemu, you are something. I can't tell if you've got guts or if you're just a moron."  
>He would never love her. He would not love her no matter how tempting it would be. But she was okay with it. She would still be with him. He had not fucked things up. Even if things could not go back to the things they were. Everything must change in one point or another. How could he or they call themselves people of science if they remained with permanence instead of trying to move forward. He would allow himself to reach for her, to touch her, and to hold her. He would try to be a little bit nicer to her, at the very least. But he would not and could not change for her. He would have her and want her and need her in his madness and insanity. But never would he dare to love her. He was not crazy enough to do that.<p>

More tears started falling from her face.

"Dear me, Nemu! So much crying! What exactly is wrong with you?" he gave her a soft whack on the side of her shoulder.

She shook her head, a little smile forming on her lips. "Please forgive me, sir. I don't know why I'm crying. I'm not sad…"

He held her shoulders and leaned his face in, careful not to poke out any of her eyes. His tongue crept out of his mouth and he licked her tears. "If you keep crying so much, Nemu, I'll remove your tear ducts altogether."

He smiled and she smiled.

"Yes, Mayuri-sama."

They kissed and it was then that he realized that he did indeed miss touching her. His hands cupped her jaw, fingers slinking through her hair. After some time, he realized that he was running out of breath and it was likely that Nemu had run out of breath too and was just kissing him by sheer will. They broke apart and he felt her tongue to still be in want of him.

"Nemu." he asked.

"Yesh, Mayuri-shama?" she slurred, panting and breathing hard.

"Did you finish your paperwork at least?" he asked, his eyes narrowed at her and his fingers twisting the front locks of her hair around his digit. He had had enough of his paperwork and he had done more than enough for the time being. he supposed then that they should have a at least a few minutes...

"Yes, sir." she answered. She turned her head to the palm of his hand and began kissing him there. Tingles went through his arm at the sensation and he was already feeling very tempted. Her green eyes flicked up to his golden ones before they returned to his hand, or more specifically his index finger. He was very much surprised by her actions afterwards and could only dare guess from which female shinigami that she had learned it from. The busty lieutenant of the tenth division came to mind. She took his finger in her mouth and sucked at it as though it were a piece of sweet candy. Her tongue suddenly did something around his finger, moving as though it had a mind of its own and knew just where to push his buttons. The finger fellatio had his mind conjure up something else that her tongue could do elsewhere.

He held his voice steady, "Nemu." He kissed her upon her cheek and whispered in her ear, already feeling anxious to what he was proposing to her. "There is a cot in the secondary room of my office. Believe it or not, it is almost as comfortable as the beds at home."

He did not have to persuade her anymore than that.

* * *

><p><strong>Truthfully, I'm not really happy with this chapter. I think I sort of cheapened myself by adding in the fanservice at the end. But at least I didn't go all the way. Some parts are OOC and that's my fault because I had only planned for 11 chapters, not 12... and I sort of got lost and bored at how to set up the conversation and dialogue between characters and how to do transitions... I hope it's still good. <strong>

**So... what did you think? Any questions? Suggestions?**

**Until next time!**


End file.
